


Unquiet Times

by zathara001



Series: Changing Times [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 04:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7963063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zathara001/pseuds/zathara001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From finding his alternate self in the middle of an anomaly in space to dealing with a defecting Romulan, it's just another week in the life of James T. Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: This takes place after Star Trek, but before Star Trek Into Darkness. It should be blindingly obvious that I don't own anything to do with Star Trek in any of its incarnations. All rights in this work are hereby given to those who do.

James T. Kirk had no idea how long he'd been here - wherever _here_ was. He remembered the maiden voyage of the _Enterprise_ - _B_ , the sudden distress call from a pair of refugee ships, and the ribbon of energy in space that threatened those ships. He remembered Captain Harriman's desperate attempts to save the refugees, and the younger man's panic when _Enterprise_ herself was caught in the energy ribbon. Kirk remembered his mad rush to the lower decks, his desperate attempts to alter the deflector shields to give _Enterprise_ a chance to escape - and then blackness.

 

Kirk had always known he'd die alone, so when he'd woken up here, alone, he'd resigned himself to the inevitability of death.

 

Except he hadn't died.

 

He'd simply lived - no, that wasn't it. He'd simply _existed_ in this too-familiar landscape from - day to day? Week to week? However long he'd actually been here. Alone, not dead (or if he were dead, he amended, the afterlife wasn't anything like anyone had ever imagined), but not alive, either. Which, he supposed, was its own form of death.

 

The sound of an engine surprised Kirk into stillness, but only for a moment. He'd always been too curious for his own good, and, yes, too adventurous. But after some timeless, endless sameness, even a hint of a distraction was enough to get him racing toward the sound.

 

And then stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the shuttlecraft.

 

*

 

Jim Kirk wasn't too surprised when he lost contact with the _Enterprise_. He was more surprised that he'd kept contact as long as he had. There'd been no guarantees when he'd piloted the shuttlecraft out of the docking bay, after all, and there were even fewer now as he guided it into the dancing ribbon of energy that they'd discovered.

 

Spock would remind him that in a physical sense there could be no fewer than "none," Jim mused, but right now he was focused on _one_ rather than _none_. One, as in the one life sign they'd so improbably detected. How could anyone, anything, survive in the vacuum of space? Still, Spock had triple-checked his computers and the life-sign reading was still there. It had been only logical that someone check it out.

 

But before Jim would risk any crewman on such a mission, he'd made sure that every department had scanned the ribbon for anything that might give them a clue, however small, as to what awaited them on the other side. He might take risks with his own life, but when it came to his crew, Jim tried his damnedest to make certain they were as well prepared as it was possible to be.

 

Then Bones had called up from medbay. "Jim, you gotta see this."

 

 _This_ turned out to be an electro-encephalogram, an EEG, taken of the energy ribbon. ("Why not?" Bones had demanded. "You want every other goddamn test known to man.") The results of the EEG matched Jim's own. So, here he was, over both Bones' and Spock's objections, going into an anomaly in space that seemed to have been designed for him.

 

The lights on his instrument panel went into a paroxysm of color matched only by the cacophony of alarms as he crossed the threshold of the energy ribbon, and Jim tried to keep the shuttle steady, simultaneously wishing he'd brought Sulu with him and grateful that the other man remained aboard the _Enterprise_.

 

"Easy, now," Jim told the shuttle as it lurched beneath him, the sudden movement causing the seat harness to deploy, crossing over his chest and holding him in his seat. The turbulence went on long enough for him to wonder whether his stomach would ever feel stable again, and then suddenly stopped, as he emerged into … atmosphere?

 

Well, what else would you call it, he wondered, when it looked like blue sky over green woodlands? Jim steadied the shuttle and checked for the life sign. North, he noted, perhaps half a mile. He turned the shuttle northward.

 

Half a mile north, a clearing awaited him. Jim guided the shuttle into a gentle landing and while it powered down into idle, he studied the landscape around him. Something about it seemed familiar, though he couldn't place it immediately.

 

The same thing could be said for the man standing at the edge of the clearing, half-hidden in the shadowy woods. Jim watched for a moment, but the man didn't move.

 

Only a moment. Then Jim stood and moved to the aft hatch, his hand patting his hip to confirm the phaser he'd brought still rested in its holster. The hatch opened, and Jim inhaled clean air, a moist scent of the greenery around him, a scent he could only enjoy on Earth. But this clearly wasn't Earth ….

 

He stepped outside and circled the shuttle so he was in plain view of the man in the woods. From this angle, and without the glare of the shuttle's cameras, Jim could see patches of color, white and dark red, probably the man's clothes, but still couldn't quite make out his face.

 

Well, Jim had never been accused of being shy. He summoned a grin. "Hi. I'm Jim."

 

"So am I," came the response, and as the man stepped into the sunlight, the red and white resolved into parts of a formal uniform. "Captain James T. Kirk."

 

So _that's_ why the man seemed so familiar, Jim thought. He supposed he should be more surprised, but after meeting the Spock from an alternate future, it seemed only logical that he'd meet an alternate Kirk. At least the other man should get his sense of humor.

 

"Imagine that," Jim said. "I'm James T. Kirk, captain of the starship _Enterprise_."

 

And he got to enjoy the look of surprise on his counterpart's face before it settled into cautious acceptance. Jim extended a hand. "Good to meet you."

 

Kirk eyed his hand warily. Jim had to grin. "It's okay," he said. "I have it on good authority that we won't destroy space-time if we shake hands."

 

"That sounds like there's a story behind it." Kirk clasped his hand. Jim was only a little relieved when space-time did not, in fact, implode at the contact.

 

"There's a story behind this, too." Jim nodded to indicate their surroundings. "Care to share them aboard the _Enterprise_?"

 

A slow grin spread across his counterpart's face, quickly replaced by a puzzled frown. "You're sure we can get out of here?"

 

"We got in, didn't we?"

 

"I was sucked into space. I don't recommend it as a method of travel."

 

"And I came by shuttlecraft," Jim said, although that was obvious. "Should be able to leave the same way."

 

Kirk considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Let me just lock up."

 

Jim followed him through the wooded area. "You do realize none of this is real."

 

"Always lock up when you leave. Didn't Dad teach you that?"

 

Whatever answer Jim might have made died in his throat as they emerged from the woods. It was the house he'd dreamed of since he was a boy - a cabin in the woods. He forced himself to wait outside while his counterpart went to secure the house - he wasn't ready, yet, to see what his other self might have imagined.

 

But his older self emerged from the house moments later, a maroon jacket slung over one shoulder, and secured the door behind him before joining Jim.

 

"You know," Kirk said as he fell into step with Jim, "I've always wondered what I'd say to my younger self if I ever had the chance. Now I have the chance and I have no idea what to say to you."

 

"No words of advice?" Jim asked, grinning. "Like, 'be careful,' or something?"

 

"You flew into an unknown energy field in space. Would 'be careful' actually stick?"

 

Jim chuckled. "Probably not."

 

They broke through to the clearing that held the shuttlecraft, and Jim was glad to see it remained where he'd left it. He took the pilot's seat while his older self sat beside him.

 

"Maybe there is one thing," Kirk mused.

 

"What's that?"

 

"Never take a desk job."

 

"Oh, hell no." Jim laughed. "They're already dumping too much paperwork on me as it is."

 

"Any paperwork is too much paperwork."

 

"More than normal."

 

"More than normal?" Kirk echoed with an inquiring look.

 

"About thirty percent more, according to Spock."

 

"For the love of - why?"

 

"Something about being the youngest captain in the fleet, and a bunch of stick-up-their-asses admirals not being sure I can handle the job." Jim nodded toward the disruption in the sky before them. "Ready to see my _Enterprise_?"

 

His counterpart's grin matched his own.

 

*

 

Spock did not drum his fingers on the armrest of the captain's chair. That would have been a useless display of concern, and therefore illogical. The concern itself, however, was not. Not when Jim Kirk had flown a shuttlecraft into an anomaly in space with apparently the barest of thoughts for his own safety.

 

"Do you not think it strange that of all the possible readings we might have gotten from this anomaly, it perfectly matches your own brainwaves, Captain?" Spock had asked, with the slightest emphasis on the title to remind Jim of the duties and responsibilities that came with the rank. "The odds of such an occurrence are -"

 

"Impossible," Dr. McCoy had finished for him.

 

"Vanishingly small," Spock corrected.

 

Jim just looked between the two of them. "We're out here to explore, and that thing out there's begging to be explored," he said. "And as for impossible, well, we haven't made it up to believing six impossible things before breakfast yet, but I'm sure we'll get there. Take care of my ship, Mr. Spock - I'll be wanting her back."

 

And then Jim had disappeared into the shuttlecraft and then into the energy ribbon, and they'd lost contact with him. Even the bond Spock shared with his captain had faded to the thinnest, most gossamer hair of a thread.

 

So, yes, concern for the captain's well-being was perfectly logical under the circumstances, even though he'd been out of contact for less time than it had taken him to cross the distance between the _Enterprise_ and the anomaly. Only a few minutes, in fact.

 

But with Jim Kirk, a few minutes could be an eternity, and everyone aboard knew it, to judge by the tension that filled the bridge and sent a tremor through Spock's fingers, making him want to tap them regardless of how illogical the gesture was. He stretched his fingers along the armrest, stilling the tremor in the process.

 

The tension was only sharpened by the announcement from the woman currently serving at the science station. "Mr. Spock, the anomaly's readings are shifting."

 

"To what, Ensign Richards?" Spock turned in the chair so he could face his relief.

 

"If I could tell you, sir, I would. Look." The ensign tapped a command to send the readings to the main viewscreen, and Spock studied them intently, pleased that Ensign Richards had also ordered another EEG of the anomaly.

 

"Send that to Dr. McCoy, as well," he said, the whoosh of the turbolift door opening barely registering in his awareness.

 

"Send what to Dr. McCoy?" came the question in a Southern accent. Then, "What the hell is that on screen?"

 

"The most recent readings from the anomaly, Doctor," Spock answered. "Since you associated the previous readings with an electroencephalogram, perhaps you can explain these."

 

McCoy moved to stand beside the captain's chair, muttering under his breath. Spock chose not to comment on things he obviously hadn't been meant to hear, and instead breathed in and out in a silent pattern normally reserved for the beginning stages of meditation. He couldn't meditate now, but the pattern brought calm to disordered thoughts, and so it was appropriate at this time.

 

"If I didn't know better, I'd say I was looking at a schizophrenic with a split personality," McCoy finally said.

 

Spock's fingers trembled again, this time with fear. Had Jim had finally done it, taken the one risk he couldn't master? If so, would he and McCoy be able to repair the damaged mind before them?

 

"Doctor -" Spock began, but Uhura cut him off.

 

"Incoming transmission, sir." She routed it to his station without waiting for the order.

 

"Kirk to _Enterprise_."

 

" _Enterprise_. Spock here," Spock replied, and that was not relief edging his tone, not at all - merely satisfaction that the captain had returned and sounded, at least for the moment, quite sane.

 

"Estimated docking time, four minutes. Have a medical team meet the shuttle."

 

"Doctor McCoy is on his way," Spock answered. The other man had started for the turbolift even before Jim had finished saying the word "medical," muttering about goddamn space anomalies and stubborn starship captains.

 

"See you in four, _Enterprise_. Kirk out."

 

Spock notified the shuttle bay to expect the return and then, because it was only logical for him to check on the captain's condition, he said, "Lieutenant Sulu, you have the conn."

 

Nobody even blinked when he rose and headed for the turbolift.

 

*

 

Spock was slightly surprised that he arrived at the shuttle bay before McCoy, but then surmised that the doctor's delay had likely been caused by a stop in medbay to pick up a med-kit. That deduction was confirmed when the doctor arrived only half a minute after he had, said med-kit in hand. True to form, though, McCoy gave Spock a look full of compassion and hope.

 

"He sounded fine."

 

"Indeed." Spock made no other reply as the two men waited for the airlock to finish cycling.

 

Eventually, the monitor chimed a ready signal and the door to the docking bay slid open. Spock allowed McCoy to precede him as the two men crossed to the shuttlecraft. The doors opened, and Spock would never admit to the relief that coursed through him at the sight of Jim standing framed in the hatch, straight and apparently healthy.

 

Instinctively, Spock sought the link that had formed between him and his captain - no, his friend - over the months they'd served together. And, yes, there was Jim's presence, his essence, as brash and cocky as ever, and Spock allowed himself to hope that the "schizophrenic with a split personality" might not, in fact, be Jim.

 

Doctor McCoy, however, wasn't as certain. He was already in Jim's space and face with his instruments. "Goddammit, Jim, what the hell did you think you were doing, heading out into who knows what for no reason? I do not want to have to explain that to your mother."

 

"D'you think she doesn't know already?" Jim tried to block McCoy's efforts. "What are you doing?"

 

"The doctor is merely endeavoring to do his job," Spock said. Jim shot him a dirty look, so he added, "You did request a medical team, Captain."

 

"Loss of short-term memory," McCoy muttered. "Not good."

 

"Not for me," Jim said. Spock let one eyebrow rise in inquiry. Jim jerked a thumb toward the hatch he'd just exited. "For _him_."

 

Spock's gaze traveled past Jim to the hatch, and the second figure filling the opening. Even at this distance, Spock could see the resemblance in the facial features, though the two men's bodies were distinctly different. _A result of age, perhaps_ , Spock thought, picking up on Jim's conclusion and silently concurring.

 

McCoy, however, took a moment longer. "What about him, Jim? He -"

 

"He's me," Jim finished, and turned to gesture their guest aboard.

 

The other, older man hesitated. "Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

 

"Permission granted, Captain," Jim replied easily. "Welcome to the _Enterprise_. Is it safe to assume you recognize Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock?" he added as the other man stepped down from the shuttle into the docking bay.

 

"It is," Captain Kirk replied with a nod of greeting to himself and McCoy. "It looks like we have a lot to talk about."

 

"After you're cleared by the chief medical officer, who happens to be me," McCoy said. " _Both_ of you."

 

"I'm fine, Bones."

 

If Spock had been fully human, he would have smiled at the harmony in the response, however unintentional it may have been. He stepped forward.

 

"Both of you appear to be healthy and whole," Spock said, and the elder Kirk's expression brightened. Jim simply looked wary. "However, given the description of the readings Dr. McCoy provided, it would be prudent to examine you both to be sure."

 

"Readings?" Jim asked.

 

"While you were inside the anomaly," Spock clarified. "I believe the exact phrase was 'schizophrenic with a split personality.' It would be remiss of me to return command to you until you are cleared."

 

Jim regarded him steadily, and though Spock knew that the Jim who'd come back was the same Jim who'd left thanks to the bond they shared, that wouldn't be sufficient explanation for Starfleet. He met Jim's gaze without flinching, without blinking, either physically or mentally.

 

Finally, Jim gave a silent sigh. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

 

"You are not," Spock said at the same time McCoy said, "Hell, no."

 

Jim looked to his elder counterpart. "Is your Bones as terrifying with a hypo as this one?"

 

Captain Kirk looked resigned. "I suppose I'll find out."

 

"See you on the bridge, Mr. Spock," Jim said, and then pointed at Bones. "No hypos."

 

"No promises," McCoy shot back as the three men left the docking bay.

 

After a last glance at the shuttle, Spock followed. He took the turbolift back to the bridge and relieved Lieutenant Sulu. To Uhura's quiet inquiry, he said, "The captain will join us when Dr. McCoy has finished his examination."

 

The only question was whether he'd arrive alone. If the elder Captain Kirk shared many of Jim's traits, the answer was a foregone conclusion. What was not a foregone conclusion was what the other captain's arrival meant.

 

His own alternate self's arrival had sparked the destruction of Vulcan. It was not, therefore, illogical to wonder whether this alternate Kirk's arrival would have similar consequences for Earth.

 

However illogical hope might be, Spock found himself hoping history would not repeat itself.


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk looked around him with some curiosity as he walked with the younger versions of himself and Bones through the corridors of the _Enterprise_. So much was the same, but there were lots of subtle differences between the ship he’d commanded as a younger man and the one he was now a guest aboard. If those changes existed, then this couldn’t be the past he remembered, at least not entirely.

 

That realization raised a whole slew of questions in his mind. The Spock he knew had often spoken of the multitude of universes implied by physics. That this was one of the multitude appeared undeniable. Kirk was just glad it wasn’t the "mirror" universe he’d once traveled to via transporter mishap. One visit to that universe was more than enough.

 

The basic layout of the _Enterprise_ remained the same - that, at least, appeared to be a constant - and Kirk found himself turning into sickbay without prompting from either of the other two men.

 

"Captain." Bones gestured him to an exam table.

 

"Bones," Jim said, "I’ve got a ship to run."

 

"Spock is perfectly capable of keeping it running an extra few minutes while I examine our guest first," Bones declared.

 

"Age has its privileges, youngster," Kirk couldn’t help adding, only to grin at the glare he received from his younger alternate self.

 

"Fine," Jim said, and dropped into a chair to wait his turn, and for a few minutes, the only sound was Bones muttering to himself as he examined Kirk. Then Bones waved him off the table and the younger Jim took his place.

 

"Stop fidgeting, dammit," Bones said, and Kirk grinned. He’d had a hard time staying still when he was younger, too. The grin disappeared when Bones glared at him. "You may have settled down some, but he hasn’t yet. Aside from sedation, what do you suggest?"

 

"Distraction usually works," Jim offered.

 

"Bones would probably object to the best distractions," Kirk said. "Why not tell me how you came to be captain of the _Enterprise_?"

 

Bones snorted. "Don’t you know?"

 

Kirk didn’t reply. His younger counterpart had raised his head and was studying him, and he met the other man’s gaze without flinching. After a moment, Jim rested his head back on the table, staring at the ceiling when he spoke again.

 

"I’d like to claim it was all ability on my part," Jim said. "But the truth is, I was on the verge of an academic suspension from the Academy when the Nero incident happened."

 

When that seemed to be all his younger self was going to say, despite its lack of explanatory value, Kirk prompted, "Nero incident?"

 

"A Romulan terrorist," Bones supplied.

 

"In one attack, he destroyed half of Starfleet," Jim added, "so they were a little short of captains."

 

Jim fell silent again, and Kirk said, "It’s only a distraction if you actually talk."

 

Jim blew out a breath, and this time he turned his head to regard Kirk when he spoke. "The first time Nero showed up was the day I was born. My father was first officer aboard the _U.S.S._ _Kelvin_ when Nero’s ship, the _Narada_ , came through a wormhole. _Kelvin_ ’s captain went aboard the _Narada_ to parley. Nero killed him and turned on the _Kelvin_. My father ordered an evacuation when he realized _Kelvin_ was laughably outgunned, and set the ship for a collision course with the _Narada_. When _Kelvin_ ’s autopilot failed, my father flew it into the _Narada_ , buying _Kelvin_ ’s crew, including my mother and me, time to escape."

 

The summary was delivered in a dry, unemotional tone that reminded Kirk of Spock at his worst, but Kirk felt the emotions underlying the words as if he’d spoken them himself. He acknowledged Jim’s statement, and all the things left unsaid, with a nod, then asked, "That can't have been when he attacked Starfleet."

 

"No," Jim said, and his tone sounded more normal now. "That attack was just about a year ago. But I think Bones is done."

 

"For now," Bones said.

 

"Are we crazy?" Kirk asked.

 

"No more than usual," Jim replied and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "See you later, Bones." Then he looked up at Kirk, and some of his cockiness faded. "Would you like to see the bridge, Captain?"

 

The simple question made anticipation sing through his veins. To once again walk the bridge of the _Enterprise_ \- even if it wasn’t his _Enterprise_ \- was enough to have Kirk grinning widely. "I’d love to, Captain."

 

*

 

Jim was proud of his crew. When his elder counterpart followed him from the turbolift onto the bridge, not one of them reacted beyond a stare that lasted just long enough for them to confirm that, yes, that did in fact look like an older version of their captain before they returned to their duties.

 

Except Spock, of course, who rose from the captain’s chair to greet them.

 

"Any change in the readings from the anomaly since we got back, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked.

 

"Negative, Captain," Spock replied. Jim thought he looked more concerned than that report warranted.

 

"Something else on your mind?"

 

"If I may have a word?"

 

"Sure." Jim looked to the communication station. "Lieutenant Uhura, will you please give our guest a brief overview of the bridge?"

 

"Of course, Captain." She rose from her seat and gestured for Kirk to follow her toward the engineering station, away from the science station toward which Spock was already moving.

 

Jim joined him. "What’s up?"

 

"Are you certain it is wise to bring the Captain onto the bridge?" Spock asked, his tone low enough that Jim doubted even Uhura would have heard it if she’d still been at her station. There was no way anyone across the bridge could hear.

 

"Why not?" Jim countered in a similar tone. "He’s me, and I wouldn’t do anything to the _Enterprise_."

 

"He is not you, any more than Ambassador Spock is me," Spock said. "We share physical similarities, but we did not have the same experiences and influences, and we are not the same people."

 

Jim hated it when Spock was right, which was often. Still, "What would you suggest, Spock? Locking him in the brig?"

 

"That would be illogical, as he has not presented any immediate threat."

 

"Then what?" Jim persisted. "I’m open to suggestions."

 

Spock appeared to consider the problem, and Jim was surprised that his first officer hadn’t already presented half a dozen suggestions. Then again, this situation was unusual even for the _Enterprise_.

 

Finally, Spock spoke. "Where is he from? Or, perhaps, _when_ is he from?"

 

"I didn’t ask," Jim said, and though Spock’s expression didn’t change, Jim could _feel_ disappointment radiating from him.

 

"What?" Jim glared at his first officer. "It’s not like I could jump into his mind and see what’s going on like Ambassador Spock did to me."

 

 _But you could_.

 

Jim let the words linger in his mind rather than speak them aloud. He knew Spock would pick them up, anyway, even if they weren’t bonded.

 

Jim still wasn’t sure how the bond worked, but he knew the process had started when Spock assaulted him on the bridge after he’d suggested Spock wasn’t fit for command. According to a very embarrassed Spock, at that moment he’d been compromised enough that he hadn’t just attacked physically but mentally as well. Such an attack, Spock had said, was not without consequences for both of them.

 

In this case, the consequences had taken the form of a permanent (so far) bond between them that could only be removed with the help of a trained mind healer, and the few trained mind healers who had survived the destruction of Vulcan understandably had their hands, and minds, full with the other survivors.

 

So he and Spock had agreed to let the bond alone until the mind healers weren’t overwhelmed. It wasn’t like the bond interfered with their lives in any way, and on occasion it had even proven useful.

 

Jim felt Spock’s resignation through the bond and knew his friend had agreed to the unspoken request.

 

"How long do you need to prepare?" Jim asked.

 

"A few minutes." Spock raised one eyebrow and tilted his head fractionally toward the ready room off the bridge. Jim nodded, equally fractionally, and turned to locate his counterpart even as his first officer strode toward the ready room.

 

It looked like Uhura was circling the bridge with the captain and had paused at the helm, navigation and tactical station in the center, where Kirk was chatting with Sulu and Chekov.

 

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Jim pitched his voice to carry - not difficult, considering the bridge was usually fairly quiet. "Captain, may I borrow you for a moment?"

 

"Of course, Captain." Kirk excused himself from his conversation, and Jim could only be glad the older man couldn’t see his crew’s expressions.

 

Then again, Jim thought, Kirk had probably faced similar questions.

 

"What is it?" Kirk asked, and Jim gestured him to the ready room where Spock waited.

 

When the doors closed behind them, Jim said, "My apologies, Captain, but Mr. Spock reminds me that we have no idea where or when you came from."

 

Kirk nodded. "I’m from Iowa - but you know that much. The last year I remember is 2293, the launch of the _Enterprise_ , registry number NCC-1701-B. What else can I tell you?"

 

"Not so much _tell_ ," Jim said, ignoring the tremor that ran through him at the registry number. _B_? "As show."

 

"Show?" Kirk repeated.

 

"With your permission, Captain," Spock said, "a surface scan of your thoughts and motivations should address any doubts."

 

"I see," Kirk said after a moment. Then he sat at the table. "Ready when you are, Mr. Spock."

 

Spock glanced at Jim, and he needed no urging to leave the two of them alone. "Let me know what you find out, Spock."

 

*

 

Jim stepped out of the ready room back onto the bridge. Sulu nodded an acknowledgment to him - not for the first time, Jim was grateful for his crew and how smoothly they worked together.

 

He was not in this moment grateful for their collective intelligence, as he came face to face with a double handful of stares from Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, and others, all with the same question in their eyes.

 

"Yes," he said, "that’s an older version of me. Mr. Spock is attempting to ascertain where or when he came from. Carry on."

 

Jim turned immediately to Ensign Richards at the science station. "Any changes since the captain and I returned?"

 

"Yes, sir," she said. "It has … relaxed, for lack of a better word. All readings have fallen to a steady state, and the gravimetric readings have subsided. The rift appears to be stable."

 

"Thank you, Ensign," Jim said. "Log its location and characteristics, and send the information off to Starfleet Command. Ensign Chekov, drop a navigational beacon with a warning signal."

 

"Yes, sir," Richards said over Chekov’s, "Aye, Keptin."

 

"Captain," Uhura said, her tone businesslike. "We’re receiving a distress signal from the _U.S.S. Feynman_."

 

Dread clamped his gut in a vice. _Mom_. "On screen, Lieutenant."

 

Jim was grateful his voice sounded normal.

 

"Audio only, sir." Immediately following her declaration, a harried voice came over the audio channel.

 

"This is Lieutenant Matthew Torres of the Federation science ship _Feynman_. We have been attacked by unknown aliens, half our crew is gone including our captain, and our systems are failing. Anyone who can hear this, please help."

 

"Set course, Mr. Sulu," Jim ordered. "Best speed. Ms. Uhura, notify Starfleet that we’re responding."

 

"What about the _Feynman_ , sir?" she asked, and for a moment Jim wondered if she somehow knew that was the ship his mother was stationed on.

 

But no, she couldn't know that. She was simply being thorough. "Negative. No sense letting their attackers know we’re coming. Mr. Chekov, inform the crew of the change in plans and advise Security and Medical to be on standby for boarding and treating the survivors."

 

"Aye, sir."

 

 _Please,_ Jim thought at a being he wasn't sure he believed in. _Please let her be okay._

 

*

 

"You do not appear unduly concerned, Captain," Spock said as the door closed behind Jim.

 

"Should I be?" Kirk countered - so like the Jim Kirk Spock knew, and yet so different.

 

"Most humans would be concerned at a telepath against whom they had no defenses entering their mind."

 

Kirk grinned. "You serve with him. Would he be concerned?"

 

Spock considered that. "Perhaps not. But you are not he." _No more than I am the Spock from another timeline who might, perhaps, have been your friend._

 

"No, I’m not. But the Spock I know melded with me several times, and if you have more than just a physical similarity to him, I know I have nothing to be concerned about."

 

"Indeed." Spock tried to keep the skepticism from his voice, but he suspected this Kirk was as perceptive as his own. Still, such a display of trust could not go unanswered.

 

"I am only concerned with the truth of who you are and where you come from," Spock told him. "I will not pry into any other matters, and you should not think of anything you do not wish me to know."

 

"I understand."

 

Spock breathed in and out once more, then reached for the older man’s face. "My mind to your mind," he murmured. "My thoughts to your thoughts."

 

_Together._

 

It was easier than Spock had expected. The Jim of his time had stronger natural shields than most humans - a trait Spock still found intriguing, given that the species as a whole was remarkably non-telepathic - but this Kirk lay open before him, whatever shields he might possess not in evidence at this time.

 

 _Impossible to lie in a mind-meld_ , Kirk thought.

 

And that was not entirely true, Spock knew. One could lie, but except in rare cases of complete pathology, the truth always hummed beneath the lie.

 

_My name is James Tiberius Kirk. I was born in Riverside, Iowa. I became captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, registry number NCC-1701, effective stardate 2263.4._

 

The facts poured out of him and over Spock, but Spock was more interested in the feelings beneath them. Love, loyalty, pride - nothing he hadn’t expected, and more that he couldn’t have expected. Loneliness, anguish over every lost crewmember, joy at being demoted from admiral back to captain, frustration at being in the world again but having no place in it, no purpose of his own.

 

 _That I understand,_ Spock thought involuntarily, and felt Kirk’s question, then understanding.

 

_I suppose you would._

 

But that was a signal to Spock that the meld had gone on long enough - possibly _too_ long - and he began to withdraw.

 

A feeling of dread, palpable, washed through him, and it took a moment to realize it came from Jim, not himself.

 

Spock flinched, mentally and physically, and then he was in his own head again, Kirk staring at him.

 

"What was that?" Kirk asked.

 

"Jim," Spock said.

 

"Jim?" Kirk’s eyebrows shot up in an almost Vulcan manner, and Spock had to wonder if Kirk had learned the gesture from his own Spock.

 

It was instinct not to answer, not to reveal someone else’s secrets, and Spock felt himself straightening away from the older man. Then logic asserted itself. The older man was another version of Jim, and if anyone would know how to assist Jim in this moment, surely his counterpart would. Still, Spock would explain as little as necessary.

 

"The captain and I are bonded."

 

"Like - mates?" The question was merely curious, and Spock wondered just what this man’s relationship with the Spock of his time had been. But Kirk’s question lingered, and Spock needed to answer it.

 

"Not mates," Spock said. "By accident."

 

"There’s a story there."

 

"There is," Spock agreed. "And perhaps I will share it with you - or he will."

 

"But not now," Kirk concluded for him. "Now, he needs you."


	3. Chapter 3

Kirk followed Spock onto the bridge, emerging just in time to hear Chekov - even younger than the Chekov of his timeline had been when he joined the _Enterprise_ crew - making the shipwide announcement of a change in course to assist a Federation science ship under attack, the _Feynman_.

 

He hadn’t heard of that ship in his own world, but still anger flared deep inside him. How dare someone attack a lightly-armed research vessel?

 

Then Kirk realized that his younger counterpart was watching him with curiosity, almost an air of expectation. But what was he expecting?

 

Well, Kirk thought, one thing was obvious.

 

"I volunteer to go aboard _Feynman_ ," he said, and immediately wondered if that were somehow the wrong thing to say, as his younger counterpart winced, a barely-perceptible expression, and if he didn’t know his own face, he probably would’ve missed it.

 

_Taking lessons from Spock, I'll bet._

 

"If they were attacked by a race you haven’t met, but I know of from my timeline, I might recognize them," Kirk explained.

 

"Such knowledge could prove beneficial," Spock said.

 

Kirk noted the look that passed between the two command officers, saw his younger counterpart’s expression turn ever-so-slightly more somber.

 

"Thank you, Captain," the younger man said. "Lieutenant Sulu, you’re with the away team. Once Security’s cleared _Feynman_ , you and the captain will go to the bridge and see what there is to see. Slave their helm to ours if necessary, so we can get the hell out of here in a hurry if we need to."

 

"Aye, sir," Sulu said, and Kirk gave a tight smile. This was one mission he couldn't handle personally, but he had every faith that Sulu would do what needed to be done.

 

"Keptin, we are approaching the _Feynman_. Ready to drop out of warp in thirty seconds."

 

"Shields up," the young captain ordered. "Bring us out of warp, Mr. Sulu. Weapons ready, Mr. Chekov."

 

"Captain Kirk, if you will."

 

Kirk looked over at Spock, saw that he was gesturing to a chair beside the science station. Kirk nodded and sat, turning the chair so he could observe the bridge.

 

"Dropping out of warp in five seconds," Sulu said. "Four. Three. Two. One."

 

The image on the viewscreen was both better and worse than Kirk had expected. Better in that the _Feynman_ appeared mostly intact, worse in that the part that wasn’t intact was the leading arc of the saucer section - the bridge.

 

"There are no other vessels in the immediate area," Spock reported. "One hundred twenty-four life signs aboard, all of Federation races."

 

His tone was neutral, but that didn't negate the horror of almost sixty percent of the _Feynman's_ crew being lost.

 

The captain’s expression hardened. "Then, Captain, Mr. Sulu, you have someplace to be."

 

Kirk nodded and followed the absurdly young Sulu to the turbolift.

 

*

 

Spock could feel Jim’s agitation even without the bond between them - it fairly hummed along every line of the captain’s body, in the way his gaze flickered between the _Feynman_ on screen and the readouts from the away team’s bio-scanners.

 

What he didn’t know, couldn’t intuit, was the reason for Jim’s distress. After that first spike of dread, Jim had controlled himself remarkably, withdrawn so deeply into his mind that for a moment, Spock wondered if he retained all his faculties.

 

Then Jim had been giving orders, and the question of his faculties was resolved favorably. Still, Spock wondered just what required that much control from the normally ebullient captain.

 

"Giotto to _Enterprise_."

 

" _Enterprise_ , go ahead," Uhura said.

 

"Ship’s clear," Giotto reported, and the tension on the bridge eased, however slightly. "Whoever they were, they bugged out."

 

"The ship's systems?" Uhura asked, competent and efficient.

 

"Life support at forty-eight percent," Giotto replied. "Heavy damage to decks nine through twelve, and the weapons arrays are totally slagged."

 

Spock had never heard the term _slagged_ before, but he found it conveyed the issues with the weapons arrays quite accurately, if poetically.

 

"Decks nine through twelve are mostly crew quarters," Jim said, and Spock wondered that he knew the _Feynman's_ layout so readily. "Is there room for the survivors elsewhere on board?"

 

There was a pause, and Spock used the moment to call up specifications for the _Feynman_. It was a _Luna_ class explorer ship, with a crew of three hundred fifty - less than half of them survived the attack - all dedicated to exploration and research.

 

Giotto's voice interrupted his study. "Lieutenant Torres says that they're routing all available power to the engines and shields. The crew will have to sleep in the corridors if they stay here."

 

"Beam them over," Jim ordered. "Better that they're here if the attackers return, anyway."

 

"Aye, sir," Giotto said.

 

With that connection severed, Jim turned to Uhura. "Configure the recreation areas for crew bunks. It won't be comfortable, but they'll have life support and better defenses. Have Giotto's crew salvage any foodstuffs that survived, and we'll add those to our stores."

 

"Aye, sir," Uhura said, and with her customary efficiency began giving the sequence of orders that would turn Jim's deceptively simple plan into reality. If he had been fully human, Spock would have spared a moment's sympathy for the medical, recreation, and mess crews that were about to be bombarded with one hundred and twenty-four more crewmembers to accommodate.

 

Spock was not, however, fully human, and so he simply made a mental note to check on the progress of preparations within the next hour, and then rose to cross to his captain and his friend.

 

Chekov was apparently talking with Sulu, working out the details of slaving _Feynman_ to _Enterprise_ , and everyone else on the bridge was currently occupied with their own duties. There would, Spock concluded, not be a better time to approach Jim in the near future.

 

"Captain," he said, quietly enough that it was unlikely anyone on the bridge would hear.

 

 _Anyone_ apparently included the captain, because he didn't look up from his survey of the updates reflected on the main viewscreen.

 

Spock repeated the word, a little louder, and still got no reaction from his captain. Perhaps he needed to try something else.

 

"Jim."

 

Finally, Jim turned to face him, and for the briefest of moments, Spock felt the turmoil roiling beneath the outwardly calm surface. Then Jim's shields were in place once more, though he didn't speak.

 

Spock did. "I sensed … disquiet. Are you… well?"

 

"I'm fine, Spock. Why wouldn't I be?"

 

Spock could only raise an eyebrow at that. Jim stared guilelessly back at him.

 

The Vulcan in Spock recognized that Jim was not impaired in any way that affected his commands, that in fact Jim had given all appropriate orders in this situation, and therefore there was no logical reason to surmise that the he was unwell.

 

The human in Spock, however, knew Jim well enough to know that he had retreated behind his captain's face, that he was repressing whatever emotions he was feeling because he had no time for them in a crisis situation. It was an almost Vulcan coping strategy, and one Spock wished more humans employed.

 

So all he said was, "I apologize. It appears I misinterpreted."

 

Only he hadn't, he knew he hadn't. Jim's emotions didn't often surge like the dread that still lingered at the edges of the bond. It was duller now, and when he focused, Spock also sensed a wary, weary resignation from his captain. Neither meant the captain was _fine._

 

Still, it would take the universe itself to pry anything out of James T. Kirk that he didn't already want to share, and there were days Spock wasn't certain even the universe would emerge victorious in that particular competition.

 

So Spock remained beside the captain's chair, following Jim's gaze back to the viewscreen, wondering what the captain was looking for in these updates that surely were not significant enough in themselves to warrant blocking the view of space around them.

 

But then, perhaps that was the point - perhaps watching the updates was easier on the captain or the rest of the crew than an unchanging view of the damaged _Feynman_ would have been. Spock would never claim to understand all the vicissitudes and subtleties and nuances of human emotion.

 

One thing Spock did understand, however, was that Jim's emotions sometimes felt more settled when Spock stood by his side. And while that was always true in a figurative sense, at the moment, Spock suspected a more literal interpretation would be conducive to the captain's ease. So he remained, even after the pace of the updates had slowed to less than one every five minutes, and was pleased to sense that Jim was returning to his equilibrium - or what passed for equilibrium in James T. Kirk.

 

"Sulu to _Enterprise_."

 

Uhura transferred the call to the captain's chair without being asked. Kirk flicked a smile and a nod her way even as he answered. "Yes, Mr. Sulu?"

 

" _Feynman's_ engines are slaved to ours, Captain," Sulu reported. "But they're not in great shape."

 

Jim's lip twitched. "Is that a technical description?"

 

"It's the truth. Her warp drives are down, but between Mr. Scott, Mr. Chekov, and me we've got it rigged so she'll make warp one in our backwash."

 

Spock felt an eyebrow rising. There was no backwash in a vacuum, and the lieutenant surely knew that - any beginning helm officer knew that, and Sulu was far more than a beginner. Therefore, it was a colorful metaphor, and Spock set part of his brain to figuring out what it might actually mean.

 

Jim, of course, appeared to understand immediately. Or else he hid his confusion very well. "Excellent work, Mr. Sulu. Has the captain learned anything?"

 

"I couldn't say, sir. He's inspecting the various damage sites."

 

"Thank you. Carry on." Jim ended the transmission, but before Spock could ask whether he understood what Sulu had meant by _backwash_ , Uhura spoke from her station.

 

"All survivors are aboard, Captain."

 

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Jim said. "Ask Lieutenant Torres and his senior staff to join me in the ready room, please. You have the conn."

 

"Yes, sir," Uhura replied.

 

Jim rose from his chair. "Mr. Spock, if you'll join us."

 

*

 

Jim knew Spock was concerned - in that quiet, understated, Vulcan way of his - and wanted to reassure him, but doing so would raise all kinds of questions that Jim wasn't prepared to answer in the moment. So he'd held onto his control, tamped down the emotions bubbling within him, and focused on getting the job done. There would be time for talk and questions later.

 

Later - after the meeting with _Feynman's_ surviving and acting department heads. Jim led Spock into the ready room, and it was only a few minutes before the door opened once more.

 

Lieutenant Matthew Torres - now apparently the Acting Captain - led the way, and Jim shook hands with him. Then Torres made brief introductions of his staff - a human male, a Tellarite male, and a human female.

 

"Lieutenant Commander Al-Sabaah, engineering. Lieutenant Douro-Fahshal, security. Commander Morrison, science officer."

 

Just as he'd suppressed his dread earlier, Jim now suppressed his relief, offering brief greetings to the visiting officers before taking his seat, and if his greeting to Commander Morrison had been slightly warmer than his words to the other officers - well, he had a reputation that could explain it, at least enough that no one would ask questions neither he nor she wanted to answer at the moment.

 

"So - what happened?" Jim asked when they were all seated.

 

"They came out of nowhere," Torres said. "One second they weren't there, then they were, weapons firing without any warning."

 

"What was _Feynman's_ current mission?" Spock asked.

 

"Classified," Torres replied, and Jim bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing aloud. That by-the-book answer might have worked on Spock before the Nero incident, but the post-Nero Spock had learned that by-the-book wasn't always the right way to work.

 

"Perhaps," Spock replied. "But are you certain the attack wasn't related to your research?"

 

"How could it be?" Torres demanded. "Nobody knew what we were doing."

 

"On the contrary," Spock said. Jim spared a moment to wish that he had some popcorn. "Approximately three hundred and sixty-five people knew what you were doing."

 

"Three hundred sixty-five?" Lieutenant Al-Sabaah repeated with a frown. "Our crew was three hundred fifty."

 

"Those in the Admiralty who devised the mission and certain of their staff also know," Spock said. "Based on our own missions, I estimate that number at fifteen. There is a human saying, I believe, to the extent that two people can keep a secret, if one of them is dead. Three hundred sixty-five is far more than two."

 

Torres bristled. "Are you suggesting -?"

 

"I am suggesting nothing, Captain," Spock said. "I merely point out that there is a possibility the details of your mission were not as secret as you suppose."

 

As much as he was enjoying watching someone else fall victim to Spock's implacable logic, Jim decided it was time to step in. "Without going into details, Captain, is it possible that a compromise of your mission prompted the attack?"

 

"We were scouting for plants suitable for crops on New Vulcan," Torres said after a moment. Jim flicked a glance at Spock, who blinked once, the only sign of his surprise.

 

"Spock?" Jim prompted, sending a thought of reassurance through their bond, even though Spock probably didn't need or want it.

 

Spock met Jim's gaze. "Although the planet itself is suitable for Vulcans, many of its native plant species are indigestible, even poisonous."

 

"That's classified information," Torres said. "How do you know that?"

 

"Betting your father told you?" Jim asked.

 

"He did. And another."

 

Jim understood the reference, though he doubted anyone else at the table would. The other Spock, the one he'd met on Delta Vega. But that news did offer a possible motive for the attack on the _Feynman_.

 

"So if someone wanted New Vulcan to fail," he mused, "interrupting your work would be a logical step in that process."

 

"But who would want the colony to fail?" Torres asked, clearly baffled. "Everyone felt Vulcan's loss as if it were our own."

 

"There are those who stand to benefit from it," Spock said quietly, and Jim felt the same answer burning in his mind.

 

"The Romulans," he said, and was rewarded with blank stares from Torres, Al-Sabaah, and Douro-Fahshal. Morrison gave a tight-lipped nod, and Spock inclined his head.

 

But taking that discussion any further _would_ broach classified topics with people not cleared for them, so Jim hurried on before anyone else could speak. "What were you able to find out about the ship that attacked you?"

 

Torres snorted. "Precious damn little, and what little we did have was lost with the bridge."

 

"Not completely."

 

Jim looked up when Commander Morrison spoke for the first time. "Commander?"

 

"When the attack began, I piggybacked the Science Department's sensors on the bridge sensors. And when the bridge was lost, I kept them recording. They're not as sensitive as the bridge sensors, but it's something." She withdrew something from the pocket of her uniform trousers, slid it across the table to Jim.

 

Jim caught it, recognizing a data drive, and passed it to Spock. Before he could offer his thanks, Torres was spluttering.

 

"You piggybacked onto the bridge sensors?" Torres said. "That's a violation of more security protocols than I want to think about. And how'd you get access, anyway? Captain D'Andre might've put up with insubordination, but I won't. I'm filing a formal reprimand."

 

"You do what you believe is right, Captain," Jim said. "But personally, I'm grateful for any information that can help us find out who's responsible, however we came by it."

 

Torres almost snarled at him. "You would be - but then you wrote the book on breaking rules, didn't you?"

 

"Only the introduction," Jim shot back, then while Torres stared at him, he took a breath and let it out, and re-focused on the situation. "What other information do you have for us? Any of you?" he added, glancing at the others as well.

 

Morrison - it was easier to think of her that way, as just another professional - shrugged. "Everything I got is on that drive."

 

None of _Feynman's_ other officers had anything to offer, so Jim concluded the meeting with, "Thanks, everyone. Starbase 407 is closest, so that's where we're headed. I'll let you know if that changes."

 

With that Jim rose, and watched as _Feynman's_ officers started from the room. Just as Torres stepped out of the room, Jim said, "A word, Commander Morrison?"

 

He ignored the dirty look from Torres as much as he did the sense of inquiry from Spock, and waited until the door closed, leaving just the three of them in the room, before he spoke again.

 

"I can't override his reprimand, if he goes through with it," Jim said.

 

Morrison shrugged. "I don't expect you to. He's always been a prickly little shit, and not everyone thrives under stress like you do."

 

Jim chuckled at that, and then had no idea what to say.

 

She beat him to it. "Sorry I couldn't comm you before."

 

"I’m just glad you’re okay." And that was the truth, however awkward it always was to see her in person. Jim opened his arms, and she came around the table to wrap him in a hug.

 

Along the bond, Jim felt the surprise that Spock would never utter aloud, followed by his first officer’s voice.

 

"Captain, need I remind you of the regulations concerning fraternization?"

 

"None of which are applicable," Jim shot back. He turned to face Spock. "Not only is she not part of my crew, she’s my mother."

 

That earned him a raised eyebrow. "I see."

 

"It’s an honor to meet you, Commander," Jim’s mom said. "And I hope we’ll have time to talk more, but right now you two need to figure out who did this, and get the bastards like you got Nero."

 

"We'll do our best," Jim assured her and she turned to go. Before the door slid open, Jim added, "Dinner tonight? There’s someone else you need to meet."

 

She frowned just a little, probably wondering who she _needed_ to meet. "You're not setting me up on a blind date, are you?"

 

"No!" Jim didn't even want to think of her like that with his alternate self.

 

She studied him a long moment, before, "Okay."

 

The door closed behind her, and Jim turned back to Spock, bracing himself for - he didn’t know what, exactly. Possibly a fresh wave of grief, possibly censure, possibly…whatever.

 

What he got was, "I was not aware your mother remained in Starfleet."

 

Jim blinked, shifted his thoughts so that he could respond reasonably intelligently. "She took a leave of absence after _Kelvin_ , but ultimately went back into space."

 

"I see."

 

Jim waited, but Spock simply looked back at the datapad he held.

 

"If you have questions, ask," Jim said. "You won’t offend me, or her."

 

"It is not my intention to pry, Captain."

 

"It’s not prying if I said you could ask."

 

Spock didn't ask, though, and after a moment, Jim decided to change the subject. "Fraternization, Spock? Coming from you, that's rich."

 

*

 

The hours Kirk spent aboard the _Feynman_ brought home the fact that he wasn't in his universe anymore - as if meeting alternate versions of himself and his crew hadn't been enough proof.

 

 _Feynman_ shared several characteristics with the _Luna-_ class ships of his world, but there were enough differences that he'd almost gotten lost more than once. Still, he was satisfied with the results of his inspection when he beamed back aboard _Enterprise._

 

He was surprised to find a message from his counterpart waiting for him. _Give whatever you found to Spock. Dinner in my quarters, 1900 hours. There's someone who needs to meet you._

 

Kirk replayed the message, frowning at the terseness of it. Then again, they were still on heightened alert, and he himself had been known to get almost as monosyllabic as Spock in a crisis.

 

So he set that aside and contacted Spock.

 

"Spock here, Captain."

 

The words, the tone, were so like the Spock he'd known that Kirk had to swallow, hard, before he trusted himself to speak. "I'm back from the _Feynman_ , and have some information for you. I think we should meet after you analyze it."

 

"Very well," Spock replied. "Transmit the data directly to the science station, and I shall arrange a meeting with the captain tomorrow morning."

 

When Kirk finished transmitting the data to Spock's terminal, the ship's chronometer told him it was already 1845. If he hurried, he could grab a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading to the captain's quarters - which, at least, he knew the location of, even if this _Enterprise_ was half again the size of his.

 

So he hurried to the guest quarters he'd been assigned, stripped off the uniform he'd been wearing for however long he had been in that energy anomaly. Kirk thought he'd cleaned it several times, but he couldn't be certain that what he remembered doing had actually happened.

 

Whether it had been cleaned or not, a change of clothes was welcome.

 

He stepped into the sonic shower, tempted to linger by the almost massaging rhythm of the sonic waves. Lingering would have to wait, though - he was already cutting the timing close for getting to the captain's quarters by 1900.

 

Finished with his shower, Kirk buzzed a depilatory over his face and ran a comb through his hair. Then he turned to the replicator.

 

"Display clothing options," he said. "Human male, semi-formal evening wear."

 

Kirk scrolled through the selections, quickly settled on dark trousers, a dark undershirt, and a maroon overshirt - similar to his uniform, but in a more casual cut.

 

Minutes later, he was pulling the clothes from the replicator and putting them on. He kept his own boots, though - good footwear was worth more than its weight in dilithium crystals, Federation credits, or pretty much any other form of currency that had ever existed anywhere.

 

Kirk checked the time just as he activated the door chime at the captain's quarters - 1905. Close enough.

 

The door slid open to reveal Jim, who offered him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks for coming."

 

"Sorry I'm late," Kirk replied automatically. "I got caught up in the investigation. You know how it goes."

 

"As well as you do," Jim answered with a grin. "But tonight's not for that discussion."

 

"What is it for?" Kirk asked.

 

Jim stepped aside, gesturing him inside. "Family."

 

Kirk took one step into the room, two, then stopped, staring at the woman in science blue who'd risen from the table.

 

"Mom?" he whispered.

 

"Commander Winona Morrison," Jim said, "this is James T. Kirk - captain of another _Enterprise_ in another timeline."

 

"Jesus, Jim," she said. "You weren't kidding when you said there was somebody I needed to meet. What happened?"

 

"It's complicated," Kirk answered, and then realized that Jim had spoken the same words at the same time.

 

"You start," Jim said. "I'll get dinner under way."

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Jim stepped onto the bridge at 0745 - not so early as to be remarked on, but early enough that he could take a few minutes to go over the gamma shift log before his meeting with Spock and his counterpart.

 

His counterpart…

 

His counterpart - who had taken a mother approximately fifteen years younger than he was remarkably well. Dinner last night had gone better than Jim could have expected, but couldn't avoid being at least a little awkward given the circumstances.

 

His mother's observation at the end of the night summed it up nicely. "I'm just glad you won't need rescuing. You're old enough to know better."

 

"And still too young to care," the captain had replied, and Jim had laughed.

 

He had no idea what place his older counterpart might make for himself in this world, but for now Jim chose to think of him as an elder brother. It was simpler that way.

 

Jim had just finished skimming the log - uneventful except for Lieutenant Chu'Mana's bout of food poisoning after the mid-shift meal break - when the turbolift doors opened.

 

He knew without looking that Spock had arrived. He re-read the gamma shift log, figuring that by the time he finished Spock would have completed his own review of the gamma shift science officer's log. Then he closed the log and swiveled his chair toward the science station.

 

"I believe you scheduled a meeting for 0800, Mr. Spock?"

 

"Yes, Captain. There are still five point two minutes remaining before it begins."

 

"No reason we can't be early, get a cup of coffee - or tea, for you." Jim rose from his chair. "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."

 

"Aye, sir." Sulu's voice faded behind him as he crossed to the ready room.

 

Spock followed him inside and sat patiently while Jim fixed a cup of coffee. In the reading he'd done for one of the interminable essays on Terran Naval history, Jim had learned that all Terran navies had a tradition of coffee strong enough to stand a spoon in. It was a tradition the _Enterprise_ , while not strictly a space-navy vessel, proudly followed.

 

So Jim poured creamer into the tar that passed for coffee and stirred it before crossing to the conference table.

 

"I trust you'd have told me if there were an issue with my counterpart?" he asked.

 

"Apparently not," Spock replied, "or you would not feel the need to ask."

 

"Normally, I wouldn't," Jim agreed easily. "But given the circumstance, I'm being thorough."

 

"A first," Spock murmured, and Jim glared at him, despite the amusement he sent through their bond.

 

"What did you find?" he asked instead.

 

"I believe that he is from the same timeline as my alternate self," Spock replied, and Jim nodded. That had been his operating assumption.

 

"How far are we from New Vulcan?" Jim asked.

 

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but apparently thought better of reciting the distance down to the kilometer. Instead, he considered, and said, "Too far to make a reasonable detour at this time."

 

"Soon, though," Jim said, and felt Spock's agreement along their bond.

 

The door to the ready room swished open once more, and Jim nodded to his counterpart. "Coffee's ready."

 

The other man didn't miss a step as he turned toward the coffee station.

 

 _He takes his black_ , Jim noted idly - just another difference between them.

 

The other man took a sip and grimaced. "Bad coffee in Starfleet coffee appears to be a constant." He paused and looked at Spock. "The version of you I know - knew - would've made some comment about such a trend being a troubling sign of instability in the multiverse."

 

Jim didn't need to look at Spock to see the raised eyebrow. "It is a neutral data point, indicative only that coffee comes in various flavors of badness throughout the multiverse."

 

Captain Kirk chuckled and slid into a seat across from Jim before fixing him with a level look. "Romulans."

 

Jim felt the surprise Spock didn't show, and let his first officer take the lead in conversation for now. "On what do you base your conclusion?"

 

"I spoke with Commander Morrison last night," the captain said. "While she wasn't on the bridge, she did hear the shipwide announcements and alerts. There were only two. First, a yellow alert because a ship had appeared. Second when they went to red alert because they were attacked."

 

"How do those two points lead to Romulans?" Jim asked.

 

"Because she said the ship _appeared._ Not dropped out of warp, not approached, _appeared_." Kirk took a swallow of coffee. "In my timeline, the Romulans developed a cloaking device. They had to drop the cloak to engage their weapons. The pattern of announcements suggests that's what happened here."

 

"Two announcements hardly make a pattern, Captain," Spock said.

 

"Call it a gut feeling, then," Kirk replied, then glanced at Jim. "You go with those, right?"

 

"I do," Jim answered.

 

"Too often," Spock added, just a hint of exasperation coloring his tone. "But in this case, the data provided by Commander Morrison supports your hypothesis."

 

"How so?" Jim asked, and his counterpart sat forward in his seat, curious as well.

 

"The type of energy she recorded is consistent with the weapons on a Romulan warbird," Spock said, "if stronger than expected."

 

"Stronger?" Jim and Kirk echoed, but only Jim said, "They've developed more powerful weapons?"

 

"That is a reasonable hypothesis," Spock said.

 

Jim was reaching for the communicator before he consciously willed it.

 

Uhura responded promptly. "Yes, Captain?"

 

"Scan for any transmissions in Romulan," he ordered. "Especially on the frequencies they don't know we know about."

 

"This close to the Neutral Zone, there'll be a lot of them," Uhura said, and Jim noted Kirk's startled look, but Uhura was continuing, "Is there anything in particular I'm looking for?"

 

"We think they attacked _Feynman_ ," Jim told her. "Anything that might be related to that, or any new weapons developments."

 

"Aye, sir."

 

He cut the connection and looked at his counterpart. "What?"

 

"We're close to the Neutral Zone?"

 

Jim frowned. "Yes, why?"

 

"When I went into the nexus, it was near Earth."

 

Jim had a reasonable knowledge of physics - any command officer did - but this situation was quickly moving beyond his understanding, so he did what he usually did when he didn't understand something. He asked Spock for clarification.

 

"But if we're from his past," Jim said, "shouldn't the nexus be where it was then?"

 

"If it was near Earth," Spock countered, "how did Starfleet not know of its existence and location?"

 

Captain Kirk looked from Spock to Jim and back. "You're thinking you're not actually in my past."

 

"I believe there are enough differences between the history you remember and our history before the _Kelvin_ to suggest the possibility," Spock said. "In any event, it is not relevant to the situation before us now."

 

"Except in one way," Jim said. He punched the communicator again, and when Uhura answered, he said, "Update Starfleet that the nexus - the anomaly where we found Captain Kirk may be unstable in location."

 

She acknowledged the instruction, and Jim turned to the other two men. "Back to the current situation. Even if the attack on the _Feynman_ was a test of a cloaking device - why attack at all? Shadowing without being detected would prove it worked, right?"

 

"Perhaps they are also testing a new weapons system," Spock said, and Jim nodded, remembering the unusual readouts his mother had recorded.

 

"How strong is the Romulan Empire in this timeline? Is it even an empire?" Kirk asked.

 

"It is," Jim said. "And despite the damage Nero caused, our best intelligence suggests they're still comparatively weaker than the Federation, if not by much."

 

"Technologically, they may be superior," Spock said, "as evidenced by the cloaking device and possibly a new, more powerful weapon. But they are less logical, more emotional than Vulcans."

 

"Everyone is less logical, more emotional than Vulcans," Jim pointed out.

 

"My point is that while Vulcans and, to a lesser extent, other Federation races have learned to put emotions aside and work together when faced with a crisis, the Romulan Empire is still as riven by civil difficulties as it ever was."

 

"Captain," Sulu's voice through the intercom cut off whatever else he might have said. "We're being hailed."

 

Jim felt his own eyebrows rising to match Spock's. "Surely you can handle a hail, Lieutenant."

 

"By Romulans, from just across the Neutral Zone."

 

Okay, that was a good reason for Sulu to contact him. Jim didn't bother to cut the connection as he headed for the door to the bridge and the center seat, which Sulu had already vacated.

 

"On screen, keep our cameras close on me. No sense showing them the most advanced bridge in the Federation," Jim ordered.

 

"Done." Uhura's quiet word was underscored by the flicker of the image on the viewscreen as it resolved into the face of a Romulan male with a very slight V-ridge above his eyebrows.

 

" _Enterprise_ ," he said. "I am Commander Raimahan. Do I address Captain James T. Kirk?"

 

"You do," Jim said. "To what do we owe this unexpected communication?"

 

"A warning for the Federation, and an offer of assistance."

 

Jim felt Spock's ripple of surprise across the link, heard the quiet indrawn breaths from the rest of his crew, and from the corner of his eye, could _just_ see his counterpart's stunned expression. He put all of that aside.

 

"Explain," Jim said, not taking his eyes from the screen before him. In person, he was fairly good at judging when someone was lying, at least if that person were humanoid, but with the screens between him and Commander Raimahan, Jim focused more closely on the Romulan.

 

"It is somewhat … embarrassing to admit, but one of our warbird commanders has, as I believe you Terrans put it, gone rogue. Not long ago, she crossed the Neutral Zone and attacked one of your ships before turning on our own pursuing vessel."

 

"Which also crossed the Neutral Zone," Jim observed, keeping his tone as neutral as the zone before them.

 

"In an attempt to save Federation lives," Raimahan countered. "It was ultimately unsuccessful, for which the Empire apologizes. The pursuing vessel did not survive the encounter, but her commander sent a description of the incident. High Command dispatched me to warn you, and offer whatever assistance we can."

 

"Do you have any idea what the rogue commander wants? Why she attacked?" Jim asked.

 

"She intends to declare war on the Federation," Raimahan said. "Why she would choose to do so remains unclear."

 

Jim made a noncommittal sound. He'd expected a non-explanation, but it was still not an explanation.

 

"I understand you must confer with your superiors," Raimahan continued. "While you do, I ask that you not take the presence of a handful of warbirds on this side of the Zone as any indication of a threat on our part. We merely stand ready to assist you, or, should the rogue attempt to return to Romulan space, to deal with her ourselves."

 

"Thank you for the warning, Commander," Jim said. "We'll get back to you."

 

Uhura didn't even wait for his signal before cutting the transmission. He swiveled his seat to face Spock and his counterpart. "Thoughts?"

 

Jim was only mildly surprised when Uhura spoke first. "I scanned Romulan frequencies as you ordered, Captain, and I found a big increase in communications overall, especially here near the Neutral Zone. They're worried about something, that's for sure. A rogue commander could be the cause."

 

"In my timeline," Kirk began, "we were ordered to take the _Enterprise_ across the Neutral Zone as deliberate provocation, to draw out a Romulan ship so that we could acquire their cloaking technology. Could this be something like that, only in reverse?"

 

"But what do we have that they'd want to steal?" Uhura asked, then glanced between Spock and Jim. "Unless you two know about something the rest of us don't?"

 

"At any given time, Starfleet has multiple classified projects in development," Spock said. "Most of them are known only to those who are directly involved. Neither the captain nor I are directly involved in any such project at this time."

 

"You wouldn't necessarily know if he was, though," Uhura countered, and Jim caught his counterpart watching the byplay with keen interest.

 

"I would," Spock said calmly, certainly. "Perhaps not the details, but I would know if he were involved."

 

"How?" Uhura demanded, and Jim strove to keep his expression neutral. The question suggested that she didn't know about the bond between him and Spock, and he'd be damned if his reaction was what told her about it.

 

Instead, Jim focused on what the commander had said. Something had bothered him from almost the beginning, but during the conversation, he'd had to focus on what was said in the moment, not what was said before. Now, though, he reviewed the conversation, searching for …

 

He found it.

 

"Two ships," he said, and looked up once more. His counterpart frowned at him. Spock looked mildly relieved, and Uhura … he glanced away from her again.

 

"What?" Kirk asked.

 

"Commander Raimahan mentioned two ships," Jim clarified. "The rogue, and a pursuer. Did anyone from _Feynman_ mention two ships?"

 

"The command crew largely perished," Spock said. "Those who survive remain in critical condition and have not been able to speak."

 

"And Acting Captain Torres?" Jim asked.

 

Spock paused, and Jim could feel the hum of his thoughts through their bond. "Negative," Spock said finally. "He did not mention the number of ships involved in the attack."

 

"A second ship would account for the increased weapon energies Mo- Commander Morrison recorded," Kirk added.

 

"Shall I inform Starfleet, Captain?" Uhura asked.

 

"Not yet," Jim answered absently. "Something about this feels wrong."

 

But what? Not for the first time, he wished he could order his mind the way Spock ordered his. He'd felt the process through the bond and sometimes focused on it, drawing an odd kind of strength from watching Spock's brilliant mind at work.

 

"Captain," was all Spock said, but that one word carried confidence and faith, both of which echoed down the link between their minds.

 

Whether that prompt was all Jim's subconscious needed, or whether he would've realized what he meant without it, Jim looked up.

 

"It's too neat," he said, and was only mildly surprised that his counterpart echoed the words.

 

"How many Romulan ships are gathering?" Jim asked.

 

"Sewen," Chekov replied.

 

"That seems like overkill for one rogue warbird," Kirk said.

 

"But what other reason could they have for being here?" Uhura asked.

 

"That's what we'll find out," Jim said. "Hail Commander Raimahan."

 

"The commander will likely not tell you his true motives if asked directly," Spock said.

 

"He wouldn't've made it to commander if he would," Jim said. There was no time for more as Raimahan's face once more filled the screen.

 

"Captain," he said.

 

"Commander," Jim returned. "Will you provide whatever data you have on the warbird and its rogue commander? It will help us track your ship, and in the event the commander eludes us, it will help us defend against her attacks."

 

The Romulans might be genetically related to Vulcans, Jim thought, but they were more emotionally related to humans, judging by the commander's surprised expression.

 

Spock stepped forward to take a position directly behind Jim's chair so the bridge camera would pick him up, as well. "It is only logical, if you expect us to capture her."

 

Jim made a private bet with himself as to how many seconds it would take the commander to crack - fifteen - and promptly lost at ten.

 

"Impossible," Raimahan said. "I cannot turn over classified information."

 

"So those offers of assistance were just for show." Jim wished Bones could've heard him drawl. Not that Bones would have appreciated it, necessarily, but it was a good drawl, if Jim said so himself.

 

Raimahan stiffened. "I offered military assistance, Captain, not Imperial secrets."

 

"And if I authorized a small fleet of warbirds to come into Federation space, I'd be court-martialed faster than you could say _treason_ ," Jim said. He sat forward just a little before pitching his tone to be somewhat more persuasive.

 

"If she's gone rogue, then her personnel file shouldn't be an Imperial secret anymore," Jim said. "In fact, you'd probably prefer to forget she existed at all. Let us have her file, so we can capture her as quickly and efficiently as possible."

 

"One moment." The screen returned to a view of the warbird across from them with a suddenness that made Jim smile.

 

"There's definitely more to this than he's saying," Kirk observed.

 

Jim just waited. It was barely a minute later before Raimahan's face appeared on the screen once more.

 

"We will transmit the file," he said abruptly.

 

"Thank you," Jim said with careful courtesy. "And I or Commander Spock will call you if we require your military expertise."

 

All he got in return was a stiff nod. Then the screen cut to black.

 

Jim glanced at Uhura to confirm that the connection had ended. When she nodded, he swiveled his chair once more.

 

"Get on that file, Lieutenant," he told her, then looked at his counterpart. "Look it over, let us know if you recognize anything from your timeline."

 

"Will do." Kirk shifted to a seat closer to Uhura's communication station.

 

"Also, I want to talk to Acting Captain Torres," Jim added. "No rush, but sooner than later."

 

"Yes, sir." Uhura turned back to her station and Jim heard her speaking quietly into a microphone.

 

There was nothing else to do for the moment, so Jim decided he could put one concern to rest. "Since we won't be needed for a while, Mr. Spock - join me for an early lunch?"

 

"It would be my pleasure, Captain."

 

Jim thought that might have been a prevarication on his first officer's part, but rose and gestured to the turbolift anyway.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Spock followed Jim onto the turbolift, and wasn't surprised when Jim turned to him almost as soon as the doors slid shut.

 

"Uhura -" Jim began, but broke off, and through their bond, Spock felt him searching for words.

 

"I have not told her that we are bonded," he said simply.

 

Jim blew out a breath. "I didn't think so. Why not?"

 

There was no accusation in the question, only curiosity - even in Jim's mind - and that was the only reason Spock chose to answer.

 

"Bonding is …" for once, words failed him. Spock reviewed his human Standard vocabulary, and when that seemed inadequate, added the Japanese he'd learned from Sulu, the Russian he'd learned from Chekov, and the Swahili dialect he'd learned from Nyota. None of them contained words that would adequately convey his meaning.

 

He'd have to resort to the bond itself to explain it.

 

"Bonding is intimate," he said, "and sacred, and not to be engaged in lightly." Down their bond, he sent a feeling of what he meant, along with the proper Vulcan term. "We bond with family, lifemates, sometimes a special, chosen more-than-friend."

 

To his credit, Jim was silent while he assimilated the meaning and intent Spock had sent him. When he spoke, his mind as well as his tone were still only curious. "We were none of those things, when I goaded you into attacking me."

 

"We were not," Spock agreed, "but we are becoming so now, and I cannot say whether it is because of the bond or in spite of it. In any event, I did not bond with Nyota."

 

"She didn't want it?" Jim wondered, and Spock felt that the question was less to do with her not wanting him, Spock, personally, and more to do with a natural human aversion to telepathy.

 

"The subject never came up." Spock hoped that Jim would leave it at that - illogically, since Jim rarely let go of anything that caught his attention.

 

What Jim said surprised him. "It probably should."

 

Spock hesitated. "I do not understand."

 

"She's only just stopped hating me, and I'd rather she didn't start again. Makes a good working relationship difficult, y'know?"

 

Spock wasn't entirely certain he did know, and he sent his confusion down the link between their minds.

 

Jim blew out a breath. "All right, look -"

 

But what Spock was supposed to be looking at would remain a mystery, as the turbolift doors opened onto deck two, where the captain's dining hall was located. Spock could only be grateful that Jim had chosen to use the more private venue than the officers' mess they used most often.

 

It was the work of just a few minutes to place their orders and take seats at one end of the long table that dominated the room. So far, they hadn't had to use the room for an official function, but Spock was certain that when the time came, the room would serve its purpose adequately.

 

Jim remained silent until their meals were brought to them, and they were once more alone. Jim took a couple of bites of his meal - an odd combination of meat, vegetables and cheese he had called a Cobb salad - before he looked up once more.

 

"You need to tell her," Jim said. "And soon, or else she'll think you're hiding something from her. Which you are, of course."

 

"I am not -" Spock began automatically.

 

"You are," Jim insisted, stabbing the air in Spock's general direction with a fork full of egg and avocado. "She thinks she's the one in your life, the one you should bond with if you were going to bond with anyone. She'll understand it was an accident, but she won't understand why you didn't tell her."

 

"It does not concern her," Spock began, but broke off when he saw Jim's expression.

 

"Bullshit."

 

Spock felt both his eyebrows flying up, lodging beneath his bangs. "I fail to see how bovine excrement -"

 

"Listen, Spock," Jim said, "this isn't logical, you can't reason your way through a woman's affections - a human woman's affections."

 

Spock paused, an intentional move, almost as though this conversation were a game of chess or a battle, then he delivered what he expected was the fatal blow. "I suppose you would be an authority on such matters."

 

Jim glared at him. "No need to be insulting, Spock."

 

Spock fought the amusement that threatened to twitch his lips. "My apologies, Captain."

 

Jim kept his glare another few seconds before his expression softened. "Tell her, Spock. It's the right - the _logical_ \- thing to do."

 

Spock stretched his thoughts toward their bond, found only sincerity. Still, it was another five seconds before he could speak. "Very well."

 

He could feel Jim's relief through their bond, but before he could wonder at its cause, the door to the captain's dining hall opened.

 

"You wanted to see me, Captain Kirk?"

 

Spock didn't have to turn to recognize Acting Captain Matthew Torres' voice.

 

"I did, Captain," Jim answered. "Join us for lunch, will you?"

 

Once Torres had ordered his meal - a medium-rare steak with a baked potato seemed excessive for lunch even by human standards, Spock thought - and taken a seat beside Spock across from Jim, Jim took a swallow of his drink and turned to Torres.

 

"Were you on the bridge when the attack came?"

 

"I was on my way back from mid-shift break," Torres replied. "The turbolift door opened, and that's when the first blast hit."

 

"Did you see the viewscreen?" Spock asked.

 

"Not clearly."

 

 _Not clearly_ wasn't _not at all_ , Spock knew.

 

"What are your impressions of it?" Jim asked.

 

"The screen?" Torres frowned and took a bite of his steak. "There was a ship on it. One I didn't recognize."

 

"Only the one?" Jim asked.

 

"I think so, yeah. It went dead right about then, though."

 

Spock glanced at Jim, who was probably not aware that he was scowling at his salad as he went over what Torres had told him. Then he looked up at Spock.

 

"You've gotten everything you can from the bridge recorders?"

 

Of course he had, Spock thought, and Jim knew that, so why -? Oh. The question was for Torres' benefit.

 

"Yes, Captain."

 

Jim nodded and focused on Torres once more. "My apologies, Captain Torres, but we have to scuttle the _Feynman_."

 

Torres inhaled sharply, and then coughed around a mouthful of food. Spock straightened, but after a moment, it was clear that abdominal thrusts would not be necessary.

 

Torres coughed again, then took a swallow of his drink before he glared at Jim.

 

"Scuttle her? _Why?_ "

 

"So the Romulans, or anyone else for that matter, don't get anything useful from her," Jim explained patiently.

 

"You were towing her to Starbase 407."

 

"I was," Jim agreed, "but circumstances have changed, and we need all the speed _Enterprise_ can muster - which isn't much if she has to tow _Feynman._ "

 

"The loss is regrettable," Spock offered. "But necessary."

 

"Necessary?" Torres glared at him. "Like hell it is." He turned back to Jim. "Why is it necessary to scuttle _my_ ship?"

 

Interesting, Spock thought, that an Acting Captain should emphasize the possessive so much. Then again, Jim had casually claimed the captain's chair when he was an Acting First Officer. Was it because of the temporary nature of the position, or was it merely a human characteristic?

 

"Unfortunately," Jim's voice cut across Spock's thoughts, "that information is classified."

 

Spock started to say that, technically, although the information would be classified once it was reported to Starfleet, it was not now classified, but some sense from Jim made him hold his tongue.

 

"Classified," Torres repeated, drumming his fingers on the table.

 

"Classified," Jim repeated in a tone that suggested Torres would do well to end the conversation right there.

 

Torres scowled. "I'll file a report."

 

Jim met the other man's gaze levelly. "So will I."

 

Without another word, Torres shot to his feet and strode from the room. Jim watched him go, then turned to Spock. "Was I that much of a jackass when I was Acting Captain? … Maybe you shouldn't answer that."

 

Spock, however, had already considered the question - and his answer. "Aside from the _Kobayashi Maru_ incident, you only ever acted to assist or save others, never for your own aggrandizement. I do not know the same can be said of Captain Torres."

 

"So that's a no?"

 

Spock felt the corners of his lips twitch. "In this context, yes."

 

Jim took a moment to parse that, then nodded once. "Good to know."

 

It was strange, Spock decided, that it was only here and now that he felt he could ask the one question he'd never learned the answer to. "May I make a personal inquiry?"

 

"Do you need to?" Jim countered. "Can't you just get the answer from the bond?"

 

"Perhaps," Spock allowed. "But I would rather hear your words."

 

"Let me give the orders about _Feynman_ , then sure."

 

Spock nodded, appreciating once more Jim's efficiency as he gave the order to copy and wipe all of _Feynman's_ memory banks in preparation for destroying her.

 

Jim was somber when he finished those orders, and his expression eased a little as he turned back to Spock. "What do you want to know?"

 

"The true reason you cheated the _Kobayashi Maru_."

 

Jim blinked, clearly surprised, and Spock wondered what he'd thought the question would be. Spock pressed his point.

 

"You'd already taken it twice, with satisfactory results. There was no need for a third attempt, let alone a dishonest one."

 

Jim took a moment to spear the last of his salad, chew it, and swallow. Finally, he laid his fork aside and met Spock's gaze.

 

"I thought I'd figured it out," he said. "I thought that since the simulation itself is a crock, the real test was thinking around it."

 

Illogically, Spock wondered if his eyebrow might remain permanently lifted. "The simulation is a … crock?"

 

"Of course it is," Jim said offhandedly.

 

"On what do you base that conclusion?"

 

Something in his tone, or perhaps some stray feeling that bled through his control, got through to Jim, who looked away, almost embarrassed, before he took a breath and once again met Spock's gaze.

 

"It's designed to evaluate how we experience fear in the face of certain death, but we all know it's a simulation going in. Therefore, death is not only not certain, it's about as far from certain as it can be at that moment. The test is a crock."

 

Spock made a slight humming sound as he considered Jim's words. At the hearing concerning that incident, Jim had indeed said that the test itself was a cheat, that therefore the only way to win was to cheat in turn. But the distress call from Vulcan had come in before they could explore that consideration, and in the aftermath of the _Narada_ incident, no one had seemed inclined to pursue it further - including Spock.

 

But this was the first time he'd considered Jim's _approach_ , rather than the _outcome_ of his actions. Not for the first time since becoming Jim's first officer, Spock considered that cheating might sometimes be the logical choice.

 

He was spared having to say those thoughts aloud when Jim's communicator buzzed.

 

"Kirk here."

 

"We're ready to proceed, Keptin," Chekov said. " _Feynman_ is empty."

 

"On my way," Jim said. "Kirk out."

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Kirk stood at attention with the rest of the bridge crew and _Feynman's_ surviving command staff - including his mother - while Chekov fired a pair of photon torpedoes into _Feynman_.

 

It was the right thing to do, he would've done it if the situation warranted it - hell, he'd destroyed his own ship once, so destroying another wouldn't even cause a tingle in his conscience - but watching the wreck of the _Feynman_ crumple beneath the torpedoes' impact felt less like a necessary sacrifice than a twisted coup de grace.

 

His younger counterpart stood at attention almost a full minute after _Feynman_ had been reduced to bits small enough not to pose a threat to any other ship and the last note of "Taps" faded before turning to _Feynman's_ staff.

 

"We're not certain exactly where we're heading, nor how long our mission will be," he said. "I apologize for the cramped quarters for you and your crew, and I give you my word, we'll drop you off at a starbase as soon as possible."

 

Then the _Feynman's_ crew were gone, and Jim faced Kirk where he stood beside Uhura.

 

"Anything yet?" he asked.

 

"First," Kirk said, "we’ve dealt with the cloaking device in my time, so I gave Sulu and Chekov what I know about how it works and how we were able to track it."

 

"Good." Jim turned to his officers. "Anything so far?"

 

"We think so, Keptin," Chekov replied. "It’s a wery minute energy displacement, easy to miss."

 

"Course?" Jim asked.

 

Kirk saw Sulu glance his way before answering the younger man. "There’s not a lot to project from, sir, and this far out, they could make any number of course changes -"

 

"You’re the best pilot in the fleet, Mr. Sulu," Jim said. "I trust your judgment. Where are they going?"

 

This time, Kirk saw Sulu’s glance dart to Spock before he straightened ever so slightly and said, "New Vulcan."

 

It was a good thing that he was already sitting down, Kirk thought, because one word just sent his world tilting on its axis.

 

" _New_ Vulcan?" he repeated dumbly.

 

"Vulcan itself was destroyed by Nero in the second _Narada_ incident," Spock said, and if he had been the Spock Kirk knew, that would have been grief beneath the stoic exterior.

 

Even if it weren’t grief, the only reply Kirk could make was, "I’m _sorry_ , Spock. I grieve with thee."

 

"It is done, Captain, and cannot be undone," Spock said. "But I appreciate your intent."

 

"Let’s get after her, Mr. Sulu," Jim said. "We’ll track that discharge until we’re confident of her course, and then punch it."

 

"Yes, sir." Sulu turned back to his station.

 

"Anything on our rogue commander?" Jim asked.

 

"Actually, yes," Uhura said. "Captain?"

 

Jim's attention shifted to him, and Kirk forced aside the shock, the horror, of the destruction of an entire planet.

 

He swallowed, and said, "I've met her - a version of her - before."

 

Beside him, Uhura called up an image of a Romulan woman on one of the smaller screens at her station.

 

Jim came closer, studying the image. "Beautiful," he observed, "in a stark, deadly kind of way. That's our commander?"

 

"Di'on Charvanek," Uhura said. "According to her records, she's a brilliant commander, served with distinction to this point."

 

Jim looked at Kirk. "It's always what's _not_ in the records that's the most interesting. What's not in her file, Captain?"

 

Kirk grinned briefly. "She's a blood relation to the Emperor."

 

Jim's eyes flew wide, and from behind him came, "Fascinating."

 

Jim was staring at the woman's face again, this time with more consideration than appreciation. Kirk knew what he was thinking, or near enough, and wasn't surprised when Jim spoke the thought aloud.

 

"What would make a blood relation of the Emperor go rogue?"

 

"We have only Commander Raimahan's word that she has gone rogue," Spock said.

 

"What other possibilities are there?" Uhura asked.

 

"Too numerous to enumerate," Spock said with - Kirk found himself staring - was that _affection_ in Spock's tone?

 

"Will you tell us about your encounter with her?" Jim asked.

 

Kirk shook off wondering whether there might be more than simple respect between the first officer and the communications officer. _Not my ship, not my crew, not my business._

 

"Remember I said we took the _Enterprise_ into the Neutral Zone in order to draw out one of their ships?" Kirk glanced around, saw the acknowledgements, and continued, "The one we got was under her command. Spock and I - and the rest of the crew - played an elaborate charade on her to get access to the cloaking technology and steal it."

 

"Successfully?" Uhura asked.

 

Kirk nodded. "I found out later that the only thing that saved her from execution was her relationship to the Emperor."

 

"How'd you find that out?" Jim asked. "Spy network?"

 

Kirk couldn't help the grin. "Her aunt told me."

 

"Based on what you know of your universe's Di'on Charvanek," Spock said, "do you believe she would turn on the Empire?"

 

Kirk had to think about that. The commander he'd met had been fiercely loyal to the Empire, even tried to seduce Spock to join them. Then again, her aunt, Ael t'Rllaillieu, had followed her own sense of honor into betraying the Empire. Might not Di'on Charvanek do the same?

 

"It's possible," he said finally. "I don't have enough information to speculate how possible it might be."

 

"And she's not the woman you knew," Jim said. Kirk couldn't argue the point, and his younger self lapsed into thought.

 

"We'll work on the assumption that she's gone rogue," Jim said after a minute, "but remain open to anything she might have to say to the contrary."

 

"Logical," Spock declared.

 

"It's gonna be a helluva report to Starfleet." Jim turned toward the center chair, doubtless already composing that report in his head. Kirk knew he would be, in his counterpart's place.

 

But for now, Kirk was at loose ends. He hadn't counted on that when he'd agreed to leave the Nexus with Jim - he'd been too excited to return to the messiness of life in the real world to think about what he might be returning _to_.

 

 _Well, you've got time to figure it out now,_ he told himself. _Might as well start with the destruction of Vulcan._

 

*

 

After briefing his beta shift relief on the events of the day - the correct events, as opposed to those fueled by the gossip that, according to several of the human crew, was the only thing that traveled faster than Warp 10 - Spock surveyed the bridge.

 

Sulu and Chekov had already briefed their reliefs and were debating the merits of Russian sabers and Japanese katanas as they strode toward the turbolift. Jim still occupied the center seat, frowning slightly as he tapped at the datapad in his lap. Spock debated remaining on the bridge until he was finished - the last two days had not been easy for him; Spock knew that well. Spock was also the only other person in the universe who might have some understanding of just how difficult the days had been.

 

As though he felt Spock's gaze on him - or perhaps he felt Spock's concern through their link, despite Spock's best efforts to shield his emotions - Jim looked up.

 

"Just finishing the report to 'Fleet," Jim said. "It might take a while."

 

At the edges of his vision, Spock saw Nyota frown ever so slightly. She quickly composed her expression before turning to brief her own relief. When Spock's gaze returned to Jim, he saw that the captain was giving him a pointed look, followed by the briefest of nods in Nyota's direction.

 

The message couldn't have been more clear if Jim had shouted.

 

"Of course, Captain," Spock said. "Good evening."

 

Jim chuckled. "Writing a report is never my idea of a good evening. G'night, Spock."

 

"Captain." Spock turned toward the turbolift.

 

By chance or design, Nyota was already crossing to the turbolift. Either way, if he were fully human, Spock could have read the moment as a sign that now was the right time to tell her about the bond between him and his captain.

 

Signs in that sense didn't exist, but it would be illogical to put off that conversation now that he'd been made aware of the need to have it.

 

When the doors closed behind them, Spock turned to her. "Nyota -"

 

But she was turning to him, too. "Spock -"

 

She broke off with a chuckle. "You first."

 

"May we have dinner together?" he asked.

 

"My thoughts exactly," she said. "My quarters?"

 

Spock inclined his head and was rewarded with her smile.

 

They spent the brief ride to deck six in a comfortable silence. Spock allowed himself to enjoy that comfort, as their conversation was likely to be quite uncomfortable.

 

Still, Spock followed her into her quarters and listened to her talk about the day's events as she ordered a meal from the replicators.

 

"Vegetarian lasagna." Nyota put the plates on the table.

 

"Thank you," Spock said and took a bite. After he swallowed, and because she expected it, he said, "It is satisfactory."

 

"It's not bad, for replicator food," she agreed after tasting it herself.

 

"Nyota," Spock said then. "There is something I must tell you. I had not thought to, but Captain Kirk informed me that I would be remiss if I did not."

 

Her eyebrows shot up. "Well, if the captain thinks you've been remiss, I can't wait to hear what it is."

 

"When I attacked him on the bridge, after Vulcan -"

 

"After he goaded you into it," she corrected.

 

"He was not wrong, even if his method was questionable," Spock told her. He'd long ago come to terms with Jim's actions that day, even if he still had trouble with his own. "When I attacked him, I was … compromised. I attacked both physically and mentally."

 

"Mentally?" Nyota knew Vulcans were touch-telepaths, and more, how reserved they normally were. Naturally, the next thing she said was, "He must really have pissed you off."

 

"In the aftermath of Vulcan's destruction, I was compromised, and in that state, I attacked as my ancestors would have done," Spock said. "Without thinking, without planning. As a result, a bond was inadvertently created between the captain's mind and mine."

 

"That can’t have been pleasant." Nyota took another bite of her lasagna, and Spock didn’t correct her. "But you’ve had a mind healer fix it, right?"

 

"No," Spock said, and her startled gaze flew to meet his. "The few Vulcan mind healers who survived have rightly been helping others who need their services more - those who lost a bonded mate, for example. The Betazoid and other psychic races have lent their assistance, with limited success, and dissolving a bond is delicate work. As the bond has not proven to be detrimental to either of us, we have elected to wait until a Vulcan mind healer is available."

 

Nyota studied him for a moment before chuckling. "I guess that explains how you two anticipate each other all the time."

 

"It is difficult not to, given that the bond allows an emotional transference." Had he been speaking with anyone other than Nyota, Spock would not have used the term _emotional transference_ , but Nyota knew him better than anyone else aboard, save perhaps the captain, and would understand what he meant when he said it.

 

"Still, it can’t be fun getting all of Kirk’s emotions swamping you all the time, especially -" she broke off, and her wide eyes this time were due to shock, not surprise.

 

"Nyota?" he asked when she seemed unable to speak.

 

"This emotional transference … it works both ways?"

 

"That is the nature of such a bond, yes."

 

"How … much do you feel from him? Or he from you?"

 

Spock felt his forehead crease ever so slightly. "It is not something that can be quantified."

 

"No, that’s not … I mean …" Nyota broke off, and Spock wondered at her sudden lack of coherence. Finally, she shook her head and met his gaze steadily. "Thank you for telling me, Spock."

 

When they had finished eating and Spock had cleared the remains away, he turned to see that she still sat at the table, twirling her glass of iced tea in her fingers.

 

"Nyota?"

 

"Hm?" She looked up, her expression somewhat distant.

 

"Are you desirous of further intercourse?"

 

"No! I mean, no, not tonight, if that’s all right. It’s been a rough couple of days." Nyota rose and crossed to where he stood at the tiny kitchenette.

 

"Of course," he murmured.

 

She leaned up to kiss him, briefly, and walked with him to her door. She kissed him once more. "Good night, Spock."

 

"Good night, Nyota."

 

The door slid closed, and Spock wondered whether telling her had, in fact, been the correct action, whatever Jim’s judgment on the matter had been.

 

*

 

When Jim stepped into the turbolift the next morning, he was still mentally revising his report to Starfleet. It would include his alternate self's arrival, the attack on the _Feynman_ , and the encounter with Commander Raimahan.

 

"Bridge," he said. _The Admiralty's going to have a fit when they read it,_ he thought. _Wish I could see it._

 

He was still grinning at that thought when the turbolift doors opened and he started to step onto the bridge.

 

Started to, because Uhura was suddenly there, grabbing his arm and dragging him back into the turbolift. "A moment, Captain?"

 

Her severe expression told Jim that he didn't have a choice, not without making a scene. He'd learned the hard way that Uhura didn't like scenes. So he simply said, "Sure."

 

The doors slid closed, and she punched the button to stop the turbolift's movement.

 

"What's up, Lieutenant?" _That you had to drag me off the bridge_ went unsaid.

 

"Spock told me about the bond you two share," Uhura said without preamble.

 

Jim blinked, surprised that Spock had actually followed his advice, but said only, "Good. You needed to know."

 

She waved that aside. "What he didn't tell me was just how much you feel from each other."

 

"Ah - it's hard to say, really," Jim began, but she held up a hand.

 

"You don't embarrass easily, so let me be more specific. How much do you feel when he - when we -"

 

Jim got it, suddenly. "Nothing."

 

Uhura gave him a disbelieving stare. "Nothing?"

 

And that had been the wrong way to put it. Jim took a breath, let it out. "Let me clarify?"

 

"Please. _Clarify._ "

 

"Did you copy that tone from Spock, or did he get it from you?"

 

"Captain."

 

"Sorry." Jim ran a hand through his hair. "I'll explain, okay, just don't slap me."

 

"That would be assaulting a superior officer."

 

"That wouldn't necessarily stop you."

 

That surprised a laugh out of her, and then she shook her head. "I won't. I promise."

 

"The first time, I didn't realize what was happening at first - honest," he added to Uhura's skeptical expression. "I thought it was me, that I was just horny. Then I realized it _wasn't_ me, and … I'm only human, okay? So yeah, I - I _listened in_ , for lack of a better term. But only the once."

 

"Only once?" Uhura didn't seem to believe him.

 

"Once is curiosity, more than that's perversion," Jim said. "I'm a lot of things, Lieutenant, but I'm not a pervert. At least, not that kind of pervert."

 

She seemed to be softening, just a little.

 

"I respect you both, and I wouldn't have invaded your privacy at all if I'd known. So I … don't pay attention, when you two -" Jim broke off, realizing there was no way to finish that sentence delicately.

 

"You don't pay attention." She sounded as though she were testing the words, seeing how their meaning fit into her understanding.

 

"More that I concentrate on something else, something that requires all my focus and attention."

 

"There are things in the galaxy that can hold your attention through sex?"

 

"When I'm not the one having it, yeah," Jim said. "I know, it surprised me, too. But I'm doing everything I can to keep your private time _private_."

 

Uhura searched his expression, his eyes, and for once, Jim let himself remain open to it. She'd brought up a valid concern, and he'd told her the truth. Now she had to decide whether she believed him or not.

 

Finally, she nodded once, sharply. "Okay."

 

"Okay?" Jim asked, not certain what she meant.

 

"Okay, I believe you." It was her turn to blow out a breath. "I'll still feel awkward and embarrassed for a while, but okay. I believe you when you say you're not listening in, as you put it."

 

"Thank you," Jim said, with as much dignity as he had left after this conversation. "Do you think you can release the turbolift now?"

 

When Jim followed Uhura back onto the bridge, he saw that the rest of the alpha shift crew had arrived. He made directly for the helm and tactical stations.

 

"Any update on that rogue warbird?" he asked, blinking when his helmsman and tactical officer looked up at him with bleary eyes.

 

"Tell me you got at least some sleep," Jim said.

 

"Aye, Keptin," Chekov answered. "We did, after we showed beta shift how to track her. And gamma shift confirmed her course. New Wulcan."

 

Jim looked at Sulu. "You're certain enough that we can punch it?"

 

"Yes, sir," Sulu answered. "She didn't veer off course even once."

 

"Then let's get there before she does, Mr. Sulu," Jim said, and turned to his first officer.

 

"Spock, contact the New Vulcan Council, let them know what's headed their way. Uhura, update Starfleet Command and send a general call to any ships in the vicinity. Protect New Vulcan at all costs."

 

"Yes, Captain," Spock and Uhura said, almost in unison, and Jim bit back a grin as he sat in his chair.

 

"Course laid in, Captain," Sulu said.

 

"Maximum warp, Mr. Sulu," Jim ordered, and though there wasn't actually any indication that the _Enterprise_ had leapt to several times the speed of light like a sprinter off the block, he liked to think a hint of a shudder rippled through the deck beneath his feet, the chair he sat in.

 

"Maximum warp," Sulu confirmed.

 

"Estimated time of arrival at New Wulcan, two days, fourteen hours," Chekov added.

 

"Let's go hunting Romulans," Jim murmured.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

With more than two days before they reached New Vulcan, Spock decided to check on the various studies going on in the science labs - he was, after all, science officer as well as first officer, and neglecting one set of duties in favor of the other was illogical and incompetent.

 

Spock was neither of those.

 

So, once he'd reviewed the logs from beta and gamma shifts, Spock informed Jim of his destination, and took the turbolift to the labs on deck ten.

 

His first stop was Astrophysics, a particular favorite (not that he would admit having a favorite, particular or otherwise, to anyone) of his, where the staff were currently focused on cataloguing the characteristics of the anomaly where they'd found Captain Kirk. The lieutenant in charge of that project groused about having to include an EEG in the description - "Since when does astrophysics involve life sciences?" - but the work seemed to be progressing nicely.

 

So, when Spock checked, was the analysis of the Romulan star. That it had gone nova in his alternate's reality suggested the possibility that it would do so as well in this reality - the possibility became certain if this were in fact his alternate's past.

 

Therefore, given their proximity to the Neutral Zone and relative proximity to the Romulan homeworld, Spock had ordered all possible readings, with analysis to rule out the possibility of potential supernova.

 

"Difficult to get really good data this far out," Lieutenant Commander D'neshal observed. "But what we're getting does suggest the possibility of it, if nothing else."

 

"I will recommend to Starfleet Command that we route scientific patrols along the Neutral Zone with regularity," Spock said. "If the Romulan star does appear to be in a pre-nova stage, perhaps we can negotiate with them, somehow."

 

D'neshal made a noise that in a human would've been a snort. As D'neshal was Andorian, however, it sounded like a sneeze.

 

"Good luck with _that_ ," D'neshal said. "After what that bastard Nero did, I don't know that anyone in Starfleet wants to negotiate with a Romulan."

 

Spock swallowed back the hint of bile in his throat. Human or Vulcan, he would never have any equanimity where that particular Romulan was concerned. Still, honesty compelled him to say, "Nero did state that he did not speak for the Empire. Perhaps other Romulans will be more reasonable."

 

"Perhaps," D'neshal echoed. "And perhaps I'll win the Tellarite lottery."

 

Spock frowned. "Tellar does not have a lottery."

 

"Exactly." D'neshal turned back to his work, grumbling in Andorian, which Spock chose not to understand in that moment.

 

Xenobiology was next - running as smoothly as ever, though Dr. Yorci spent far too long describing the article his department would send to the _Journal of Interstellar Xenobiological Studies._

 

Finally he turned toward the botany labs.

 

Botany had never been a particular interest of Spock's and, though he never spoke the words aloud, the experiments the _Enterprise_ officially ran were not especially inspired. They were necessary or important - or so Spock assumed, given that Starfleet had chosen to fund them - but not inspired.

 

For inspired botanical projects, he turned to the small plot that Lieutenant Sulu had appropriated. Spock had once spent an idle hour searching for the necessary approvals for that appropriation. When he hadn't found them, Spock submitted the paperwork to obtain them. Should any of the lieutenant's experiments prove fruitful, it would be a shame if they were ignored simply because protocol had not been followed.

 

There was no special demarcation as Spock stepped into the alcove that was, for all intents and purposes, Sulu's, save for a slight change in how the labels on each plot were arranged. It was a subtle change, as were most of the grafts Sulu had implemented - and perhaps that explained Spock's fascination with the lieutenant's work.

 

He strolled among the neat rows, observing the plants' growth and condition, and occasionally tapping one's datascreen for details. Behind him, he heard quiet footfalls, was aware of a figure in science blue.

 

"I wasn't aware you were a botanist, Commander."

 

The words didn't startle him. The voice did.

 

He turned to see Commander Morrison.

 

"I am science officer, Commander," Spock said. "It is my duty to be familiar with all the research and experiments underway."

 

"These aren't in the records," she observed.

 

"They will be." Spock waited for her reaction, and was not entirely surprised when she gave him a smile similar to Jim's.

 

"Good."

 

Spock felt his eyebrow rising, and wasn't certain whether it was more from surprise or inquiry.

 

Commander Morrison took it as the latter. "I'm sure you'll agree that the frontier is where all the interesting things happen. For them to be brushed aside because some procedure thought up by some bureaucrat somewhere wasn't strictly followed is …"

 

"Illogical," Spock concluded for her.

 

"I was going to say stupid and short-sighted, but illogical works."

 

Spock was surprised when she, too, began inspecting Sulu's various works in progress, then wondered why he should be. Commander Morrison might be Jim's mother, but she was not Jim, and expecting her to be a copy of her son was illogical.

 

Instead, she moved quietly among the plants as he did, occasionally asking a question about one or another of them.

 

So her sharp inhalation made him look up to see her staring at one of Sulu's many experiments. "What on earth - or Vulcan - made you decide to cross a carrot with a Vulcan plomeek?"

 

"The workings of most humans' minds are often puzzling," Spock said. "But I believe Lieutenant Sulu can tell you his thought processes."

 

Morrison frowned. "Sulu? I don't recall that name in the science roster."

 

"He is our helmsman," Spock told her.

 

"Helmsman?" She blinked at him, obviously surprised. "What's a helmsman doing grafting carrots and plomeek?"

 

Spock regarded her gravely. "According to Captain Kirk, the _Enterprise_ has a superlative crew."

 

Morrison returned his assessing gaze, then chuckled. "In other words, it's his hobby and he's good at it."

 

Spock felt his lips twitching. "A human would say, _I see where the captain gets his intuition from._ "

 

Morrison's smile faded a little. "I'm glad he got something from me."

 

"I do not understand," Spock said, in a tone that suggested he would listen if she cared to explain.

 

"I wasn't around a lot, when Jim was growing up," she said quietly. "It hurt to look at him and see George's eyes, George's smile. And then there were all the memorials, all the anniversaries of what happened, and they were always asking me to say something, and I just wanted to grieve my husband. … I spent a lot of time off-planet, time that I should have spent with Jim."

 

Spock wasn't certain how to respond to that, so he fell back on familiar Vulcan words. "It is illogical to regret what has happened in the past. We live into the future."

 

"I'm human; we do illogical better than most." Morrison grinned ruefully. Then she sobered. "I'm glad he's found the family that I didn't know how to be until it was too late."

 

Family? Spock would never have claimed that status with Jim, despite their bond and their friendship. But perhaps Commander Morrison was simply being kind in a human way. He had to return it, somehow.

 

"He is an excellent commander, and a most gifted individual," Spock said finally. "I am pleased to call him friend."

 

"Thank you."

 

Spock's surprise must have shown, because she continued, "For being his friend. I've heard more than he's told me about everything that led up to the second Nero incident, and - well. I'm glad you saw there's more to him than what he shows."

 

Before Spock could figure out what, if anything, to say to that, she was bidding him farewell. As she walked away, Spock could hear her sending a request to meet with Lieutenant Sulu.

 

He suspected he would be considering her words for a long time.

 

*

 

Jim hated waiting for battle, and never more so than now, when he knew his enemy and had the advantage of knowing more about that enemy than the enemy suspected he did.

 

But there was nothing he could do but wait - wait to arrive at New Vulcan. Wait for the Romulan warbird to be found. Wait to engage.

 

It was going to be a long two days, he thought, and he wouldn't do anyone - himself or his crew - any good by letting his nerves get the better of him. He considered expanding his link to Spock, letting the other man's ordered thoughts calm him, but set that thought aside almost before it had fully formed.

 

Doubtless Spock had his own issues, and Jim wasn't enough of an asshole to demand more from his first officer - friend - bonded partner - whatever the hell they were - than he needed, and right now Jim didn't _need_ Spock's support that way. He just needed to get his anticipation back under control.

 

And it was anticipation, not anxiety - but Jim knew that none of his crew, except Bones and perhaps Spock, could tell the difference.

 

So he handed off the conn to Sulu and headed for the forward observation deck. There wasn't much to see when the ship was in warp space, so it would likely be empty - the perfect place for Jim to sit undisturbed.

 

Except it wasn't empty. A lone figure sat at one of the many tables by a viewport.

 

Jim recognized him immediately.

 

"Captain," he said.

 

His alternate looked up. "You probably should call me Jim."

 

"Like that's less confusing, somehow?" Jim asked.

 

Kirk chuckled, and waved a hand in invitation. Jim hesitated fractionally, then crossed to where the other man sat.

 

"It was - is - hard for me, too," Kirk said. "The waiting - itching to be in the thick of things, but not there yet."

 

"Any non-alcoholic, non-sexual suggestions for dealing with it?" Jim asked and ordered a cup of coffee from the replicator.

 

"Chess usually worked for me."

 

Jim blinked. "Chess?"

 

"With Spock, usually. Nobody else was good enough to be a challenge," Kirk explained. "And it needs to be challenging, a little - keep my mind on that, not what's coming."

 

"Huh." Jim took a sip of his coffee. "Spock and I've never played."

 

"You do know how?" Kirk asked.

 

"I do. I don't know about Spock."

 

"I'll play you."

 

Jim almost choked on his coffee. When he could finally speak again, he looked up at his counterpart. "Wouldn't that be boring?"

 

"You're not me," Kirk answered. "Not completely, even if I can access your files with my thumbprint. You weren't born in Riverside. You didn't grow up with a family. You think differently enough that it might be a challenge - for you, at least."

 

Jim bristled as much at the challenge in Kirk's tone as at the casual references to the differences between them. Then he saw the matching expression in Kirk's eyes, and had to laugh at himself.

 

"Guess a dare works with you, too," Jim observed and touched the table controls to activate a holographic chessboard.

 

"Easiest way to get me to do something was to tell me it couldn't be done," Kirk agreed. "You can be white."

 

Jim scowled but adjusted the board so that the white pieces were lined up in front of him. He moved a pawn and saw his other self jump, however slightly.

 

"You know that of the twenty possible opening moves in chess, only four are actually good?" Kirk asked.

 

"I also know that throwing someone off balance, even if just by defying expectations, is a good advantage to have."

 

"Hm." Kirk sat forward and Jim could almost feel him thinking about his next move.

 

"I want you to be there when we fight this Commander - Charvanek?"

 

"Di'On Charvanek," Kirk confirmed. "Because you think I can anticipate her moves?"

 

"Because it's possible that you can, and I'll take any advantage I can get," Jim replied honestly.

 

"Cheating," Kirk observed and moved one of his own pawns. "Just like the _Kobayashi Maru._ "

 

"That wasn't cheating," Jim said. "Or at least mine wasn't, not really. The test itself was a cheat, so I had no choice but to cheat in turn."

 

"Did you get a commendation for original thinking, too?" Kirk asked.

 

Jim snorted. "Academic suspension - never mind that I'd already taken the damn thing twice before. Of course, once we destroyed Nero, there was no way the Admiralty would let that suspension stand, even if the Academy wanted to. Which they did."

 

"I saw some of the news features," Kirk said. "And then looked up the file to see how much was actually true."

 

Jim scowled at him over the board, and Kirk gave him a grin in return.

 

 _Is it that annoying when I grin like that?_ Jim wondered - and then a mischievous voice answered in his head. _I hope so._

 

"C'mon," Kirk said. "Like you wouldn't have done the same in my place."

 

"I probably would," Jim agreed. "I just wouldn't admit it."

 

He was reaching for his queen's knight when the red alert klaxon sounded.

 

Spock's voice followed. "Captain Kirk to the bridge."

 

Jim slapped the nearest comm. "What's going on?"

 

"The warbird has decloaked," Spock answered.

 

"On my way." Jim gathered his counterpart with a glance and bolted for the door.

 

*

 

"Status?" Jim barked almost before the turbolift doors were fully open. He sensed his counterpart moving toward the same station he'd had before even as Spock rose smoothly from the captain's chair.

 

"Unchanged, Captain," Spock answered. "The warbird decloaked, matching our course, and has paced us since."

 

"No hails?" Jim took his place in the center seat.

 

"Negative," Uhura replied.

 

"What about her shields and weapons?" Jim asked.

 

"Shields are minimal, Keptin," Chekov said, "and her weapons are unarmed."

 

 _Oddest game of chicken I've ever played,_ Jim thought. What he said aloud was, "If this Commander Charvanek were human, I'd think she wants a parley." He swung his chair toward the communication station. "Captain?"

 

Kirk gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Can't hurt to try. I would, in your place."

 

Jim shook his head once, grinning. Then he nodded to Uhura. "Hail them, keep the bridge camera tight on my chair."

 

"Aye, sir," Uhura replied, and set to work. Then, "They're hailing us, Captain."

 

Jim's grin this time felt triumphant. He'd won - by fractions of a second, maybe, but he'd won. "On screen."

 

The image on the forward viewscreen resolved into the face of the woman he'd seen in the file Commander Raimahan sent. She was even more beautiful and, Jim would bet, more deadly in life.

 

"Greetings, Commander," Jim said.

 

"Captain Kirk," the woman replied. "My thanks for not destroying my ship."

 

"You haven't given me reason." Jim let the _yet_ remain implied.

 

She smiled. "I would have thought the Empire would have given you reason."

 

"They tried, but I don't take many people's word for much."

 

"In that case, Captain, may we speak in person? I will beam to your ship."

 

Jim felt Spock's surprise through their bond in the same moment he caught the slight lift of Kirk's head from the corner of his eye.

 

"That's very … generous," Jim said.

 

"Of course one of your officers will beam over to mine," she said. "Mutual threat can be the beginning of trust."

 

"Trust is an odd word in this situation."

 

"But it is what I hope to build," the commander replied. "Ten minutes?"

 

"Ten minutes," Jim agreed, and signaled Uhura to end the transmission.

 

Almost before the screen had returned to its view of the warbird before them, Jim was approaching Spock and his counterpart. "Thoughts or speculation, either of you?"

 

"Vulcans do not speculate," Spock said.

 

"Sure you do," Kirk replied. "Only you call it drawing conclusions from available data."

 

Jim joined in the quiet ripple of laughter that ran through the bridge crew. Then, "Spock?"

 

"It appears you are correct about her desire for a parley," Spock said. "I shall, of course, beam over in exchange for the commander."

 

Jim saw Uhura's stricken look, and was glad that, for once, he could ease it. "No, you won't, Spock."

 

"A ranking officer must go, and I am the most senior officer after yourself," Spock said.

 

"You're also Vulcan," Jim said, and held up a hand to hold off a protest. "Half-Vulcan. Whatever. Your physiology is close enough to theirs that if we have to get you out of there fast, we might not be fast enough."

 

Spock's eyebrow twitched. "Your logic is sound."

 

"The Spock I knew always sounded more surprised when he said that," Kirk said.

 

"Spock, meet me in the transporter room in -" Jim checked the chronometer "- seven minutes. I have to go drag Bones out of medbay."

 

He strode to the turbolift and as the doors slid open, he added, "Uhura, set it up so that the captain can listen in."

 

The doors slid closed on her, "Aye, Captain."

 

*

 

When Spock arrived in the transporter room, he was not surprised to see that Jim and McCoy had arrived before him. Nor was he particularly surprised at the doctor's words.

 

"Why do I have to go over to the Romulan ship? I'm a doctor, not a diplomat," McCoy was saying.

 

"You're a ranking officer, CMO, and my friend," Jim explained - not for the first time, Spock suspected. "I've already told you why Spock can't go. You're the next best choice."

 

McCoy scowled, but said nothing, prompting Jim to clap him on the shoulder.

 

"Besides," Jim continued, "if everything goes well, you won't have to be a diplomat, just your normal self."

 

"Perhaps quieter than normal," Spock interjected. "Like Vulcans, Romulans have sharper hearing than humans. Unlike Vulcans, Romulans are not dedicated to logic and peace."

 

McCoy scowled again, deeper than before. "Fine. But if I get killed over there, so help me, I will find a way to come back and haunt you. _Both_ of you."

 

Jim smiled. "Just turn on that southern charm, Bones. You'll be fine."

 

"Famous last words," McCoy grumbled, but stepped onto the transporter pad.

 

Behind Spock, the transporter room doors slid open once more, and four security officers filed into the room, taking positions so they could cover the entire pad. Jim turned a questioning look at Spock.

 

"An honor guard," Spock murmured. "As I am certain the Romulans will provide for Dr. McCoy."

 

"Honor guard?" McCoy repeated. "Now just a damn minute -!"

 

Uhura's voice came over the intercom, interrupting him. "We have contact, Captain. The commander is ready to beam over."

 

"Tell them we're ready, too," Jim ordered. He grinned at McCoy, then glanced at the transporter officer on duty. "Energize. See you later, Bones."

 

Spock watched McCoy disappear in a whirl of light, to be replaced by a slighter feminine figure that resolved into the Romulan commander, Di'On Charvanek. Beside Spock, Jim let out a silent breath - it was only the one figure beaming aboard, not an attack party.

 

"Permission to come aboard, Captain Kirk?" she asked.

 

"Permission granted, Commander Charvanek," Jim replied, and even from several feet away Spock could feel the commander's mental start.

 

She recovered quickly. "No doubt High Command has labeled me a traitor and broadcast my name throughout the galaxy."

 

 _Traitor?_ Spock heard the word through the bond as clearly as if Jim had spoken it aloud. Mentally, he echoed Jim's confusion back to him.

 

What Jim said was, "I can't speak to what they've said within the Empire, but we were told you've gone rogue."

 

"For High Command, it's one and the same." Charvonek stepped down from the transporter pad. "But that is some of what I wish to speak about."

 

She turned to Spock, held up her right hand in the _ta'al_ and in Old High Vulcan said, "Live long and prosper."

 

Spock returned the salute and the greeting. Then, lowering his hand and switching back to Standard, he said, "Your pronunciation is excellent."

 

"Thank you," she said. "Old High Vulcan and Old High Rom are not so different."

 

"I'm sure you didn't come here to discuss linguistics," Jim said.

 

"Indeed not," Charvonek replied. "But it would be foolish - perhaps even illogical - to pass up an opportunity to practice. Still, business must come first." She glanced around the transporter room. "Are we to have such discussions here?"

 

"If you'll come with us." Jim gestured toward the door.

 

Spock followed behind him and Charvanek as they left the room, wondering at her poise. She seemed far more calm than he would expect someone in her position to be. What advantage did she believe she had?

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Jim led the way into the captain's dining hall - not as private as his ready room, but also not classified - and gestured for Commander Charvanek to be seated. He and Spock joined her, and the security officers took up stations outside the room.

 

Then Jim waited. Charvanek had come to them; it was her place to speak first.

 

After a long moment, she did.

 

"I believe, based on what I have heard of you, that you prefer plain speaking, so I will be direct." Charvanek met his gaze. "I offer myself, my ship and my crew to the Federation."

 

Through his shock at her words, Jim could only stare at her, his mind as still and focused as if they were in a sudden battle.

 

 _Are we not?_ The question wasn't his, he realized, but Spock's. _A battle of wits, not weapons._

 

Jim had to admit Spock was right about that. He cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair. "That's quite an offer, Commander. Mind explaining why you're making it?"

 

Charvanek straightened in her chair, and the cool, almost regal air about her strengthened. Jim could easily believe she was a blood relative of the Romulan Emperor.

 

"What I have to say will be painful, and for that I apologize, but there is no choice," she began. "It concerns the traveler Nero and his actions at Vulcan and at Earth."

 

"Go on," Jim said, forcing himself not to react otherwise.

 

"Perhaps someday you will tell me the truth of it, but what matters now is what the Empire heard," Charvanek continued. "We heard that Nero claimed to be Romulan, and that he acted to avenge the death of Romulus in the future. We heard that a Vulcan was responsible for that death, and therefore Nero destroyed Vulcan as a Vulcan destroyed Romulus. Is this correct?"

 

"Correct in essence - surprising, since part of that information wasn't released to the public," Jim added.

 

"Come now, Captain," Charvanek said, a hint of teasing in her smile and her voice. "Humans may claim prostitution is the oldest profession, but espionage was born with it. I daresay the Federation engages in it as much as anyone else ever has."

 

"Perhaps you will tell us why you revisit the actions of a terrorist," Spock prompted.

 

“Even if the story we heard was only partly correct,” Charvanek continued, “it ignited a firestorm of debate among High Command and the Imperial Council.”

 

“What kind of debate?” Spock sounded interested, and Kirk let him take the lead for this part of the conversation.

 

“More than one, as it happens. The one that matters in the moment is this.” She leaned forward, her gaze darting intently from Kirk to Spock and back. “Given warning that our star may go supernova in our lifetimes, and certainly in our children’s lifetimes, what are we to do about it?”

 

Jim winced internally, trying not to let his chagrin slide down the bond to Spock. In the aftermath of the _Narada's_ destruction, he’d badgered Pike, and anyone else who’d listen, to make sure Starfleet engineers retrieved _Narada's_ drill from the San Francisco Bay for analysis.

 

He hadn’t even thought about the death of the Romulan star. Sure, it wouldn’t happen for another century or so, but still someone should have been considering that angle, working it. He could only hope others in Starfleet were smarter than he was … and call Pike the first chance he got.

 

"What does that have to do with your presence here and now?" Spock asked, and Jim thought he hadn't been successful in hiding his chagrin. Either that or his first officer found this Romulan commander fascinating.

 

Jim shoved that thought aside, quickly.

 

"Some of us," Charvanek began, "believe that if we continue blissfully on Romulus until there is no choice but to find a new homeworld, we will act as dishonorably as Nero did."

 

"Dishonorably?" Jim couldn't help repeating.

 

"Yes, Captain. Dishonorably. Do you not know the meaning of the word?"

 

"I know what it means, just not how it applies in this situation - from your point of view."

 

"It is quite simple." Charvanek's tone reminded Jim of Spock's when he thought Jim was being particularly obstinate. Jim bit back a grin. "Destroying Vulcan in exchange for Romulus is honorable."

 

Beside him, Spock stiffened. "I fail to see -"

 

"Perhaps you do," Charvanek agreed. "But the captain understands, do you not?"

 

"An old Earth saying, Spock," Jim said quietly. "An eye for an eye."

 

"Exactly." Charvanek frowned. "But turning on Earth, and after that the entire Federation - that was dishonorable. I fear a similar dishonor should we be faced with the extinction of Romulus itself."

 

"You have chosen a different path." From Spock, it was more a statement than a question.

 

"Some of us have," she corrected. "We have chosen to rejoin our distant kin and, by offering our strength when they need it most, to provide an example to our people on Romulus, to show what can be done when we work together toward a common goal - survival."

 

Jim focused on the bond with Spock, then wished he hadn't. More accurately, he wished he could spare the attention to watch his first officer work through the implications of Di'On Charvanek's suggestion.

 

But one of them had to keep the conversation going, and it seemed that was Jim's duty.

 

"Yourself, your crew, your ship," Jim said. "Can you clarify?"

 

" _Iron Talon_ has a crew of one hundred eighty, and another hundred civilians joined us on this journey," Charvanek said. "Most of us still of childbearing ability, and all of us with skills a new colony will need. _Iron Talon_ is also one of five ships outfitted with a prototype cloaking device - which I'm certain your Federation engineers will drool over."

 

"We'll be lucky if they stop at drooling," Jim muttered, and was surprised when Commander Charvanek laughed with him.

 

"Engineers are the same, no matter their race," she said by way of explanation, and Jim had to grin at her.

 

Then he turned to Spock. "Your thoughts, Commander?"

 

"The commander's proposal -" and, Jim thought wryly, only Spock could use that word in these circumstances without irony "- is sound. However, I do not speak for New Vulcan. I will contact the Elders and relay the commander's offer."

 

With that, Spock rose and left the room.

 

"With your permission, Captain," Charvanek said, "I would like to contact my ship and let them know our status."

 

"Of course, Commander," Jim said. "And I'll want to confer with Dr. McCoy as well."

 

He tapped the intercom and gave the necessary orders - "Spock's call first, then ours" - and sat back to wait. And think.

 

"Your High Command isn't happy with you, I take it," he said after a few minutes.

 

"I must do what honor demands and offer some recompense for Nero's actions."

 

"Even though the destruction of Vulcan was honorable?"

 

"In the short term. But Nero and those like him cannot see the long term. In the long term, he would have better served the emperor and Romulus itself to bring news of the danger that threatened and help us choose a new course. But he chose a lower path, and now to remain honorable myself, I must betray family, comrades, and all I have ever held dear."

 

*

 

Spock ended the transmission to his father and waited until the screen had faded to black before lowering his hand from the _ta'al_. Before he could rise from the desk in the captain's ready room, the door slid open and the elder Kirk strode in.

 

Idly, Spock noted that there ought to be protocols in place for dealing with duplicate versions of command crew. Not all might be as benign as this Kirk and the other Spock.

 

"Captain," he said, and was privately amused when Kirk scowled at him for sitting in what Kirk no doubt considered to be his chair. The scowl faded quickly and Kirk sat opposite him. "What are your conclusions about Commander Charvanek?"

 

Kirk shrugged. "Nothing like this ever happened in my timeline. You - the you I knew - thought a rapprochement with the Romulans would be a good idea, but the climate was never right for it."

 

"As doubtless it would not be in this timeline, were it not for Nero's actions," Spock agreed. "However, although the details of our lives are somewhat different, it appears that certain personality traits remain constant."

 

"You've got a sample size of one, Spock. Not exactly statistically significant."

 

A sample size of two - though neither Spock nor Jim would tell this Kirk that until they were certain nothing would compromise the reunion of the two older men; hopes dashed could be more cruel than no hope at all.

 

"A valid point," Spock said instead. "Yet, as the captain would say, we work with what we have. Based on your interactions with the Di'On Charvanek of your timeline, what is your evaluation of her in this one?"

 

"She seemed sincere," Kirk said. "And members of her family displayed a sense of honor different from other Romulans in my time."

 

"So you believe her."

 

"More that I don't see any reason not to believe her," Kirk corrected. Spock nodded at the distinction. Then Kirk's expression registered.

 

"You have more to say."

 

Kirk blew out a breath. "I read up on what happened - and I know I have no right to have an opinion …"

 

"That would not stop the captain from having one," Spock pointed out.

 

Kirk chuckled briefly. "Me, either, for that matter." He sobered. "Spock, I can't imagine what that was like for any Vulcan. But I do know a fair amount about them in my time, and I believe they would prefer Romulan blood mingling with theirs than any other race. As a general rule."

 

"It is the logical choice." Spock had to acknowledge that. "Even though some will no doubt wish to remain … fully Vulcan."

 

"Maybe they should," Kirk said. "The sudden reduction in population size may qualify Vulcans for classification as an endangered species, but ten thousand individuals provide more than enough genetic diversity for indefinite procreation."

 

Spock blinked. The Jim Kirk of his time was a genius, and so he had assumed this other Kirk was, too. Still, it was strange to hear any Jim Kirk talking about biogenetics with the same easy confidence he used to coordinate battle plans.

 

Something in his expression must have shifted, however slightly, because Kirk grinned. "What? I looked it up."

 

Spock felt his lips twitch ever so slightly.

 

"But -" Kirk tilted his head to one side, but didn't seem inclined to say anything further.

 

"But?" Spock prompted, because it seemed to be expected.

 

"But things might work out really well with the Romulans. Especially for you."

 

Spock didn't even try to keep his eyebrows from flying up. "Me, Captain?"

 

"You, Commander." Kirk grinned, this time with a sly hint to it. "The Di'On Charvanek of my timeline found you quite attractive. She even tried to seduce you into defecting to the Romulans."

 

"I would not." Of that, Spock was certain, whichever Spock might be involved.

 

"You didn't. But if this one shares the personality of the other …" Kirk trailed off, apparently trusting that Spock was familiar enough with humans to fill in the blanks.

 

He was. However, "I do not believe Nyota would appreciate that."

 

Kirk frowned. "Nyota?"

 

"Surely you are aware of the lieutenant's given name."

 

"Yeah, sure. But why would she care?"

 

"In this timeline, she is my intended."

 

It was illogical to take pleasure in another's emotional turmoil. Still, Spock found himself enjoying Kirk's discomfiture - not that he would show it.

 

"Well," Kirk said finally. "That's a difference."

 

The door whooshed open on Kirk's words.

 

"What's a difference?" Jim asked. Then, before either Spock or Kirk could respond, "Tell me later. Spock?"

 

"My father is relaying the Commander's offer to the Council. He assured me he will contact me as soon as he has anything to report. The captain is inclined to believe Commander Charvanek."

 

Jim glanced at Kirk, who nodded. Spock wondered at their apparent ease with each other, an ease he did not share with his own counterpart. Was it a human trait, he wondered, or merely a Jim Kirk trait?

 

In either case, Jim nodded. "Okay. Time to make nice with our guest while we wait for Sarek's call."

 

*

 

The call came a mere two hours later. Jim spared a moment to appreciate Vulcan efficiency, even in matters such as this, while Spock took the call. Jim wasn't surprised that they had chosen to meet with Commander Charvanek themselves.

 

Then it was a matter of coordinating course and speed with _Iron Talon_ and informing Starfleet Command of the deviation in their mission parameters. Jim wished he could see the admirals' faces when they read his report, and braced himself for their response whenever it came.

 

When his shift finally ended, Jim handed off the conn and stepped into the turbolift. Quickly reviewing the day, he decided he'd spent enough diplomatic time with the commander and could enjoy a quiet dinner in his quarters. He tried not to think that it might be the last such dinner he'd have until sometime after they delivered the _Iron Talon_ to Vulcan.

 

He was debating what to have for dinner when his door chime sounded. He checked the urge to say, "It's open," the standard Riverside response to a knock, and instead called, "Enter."

 

"Hope I'm not interrupting."

 

Jim knew that voice. Without turning to look at his counterpart, he said, "I was just getting dinner. Want something?"

 

"Whatever you're having."

 

Jim debated a moment longer, then ordered salad with grilled chicken. When the meals were ready, he brought them to the table where his counterpart already sat.

 

"Spock rubbing off on you?" Kirk asked.

 

"Huh?" Jim frowned, puzzled. Then he got it. "No, just developed a taste for whole food in Riverside. So many farms."

 

"I'm surprised you haven't badgered me with questions," Kirk said after a while.

 

Jim gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I figured you wouldn't say much if I did. Too much chance of messing up the timestream, or something."

 

That was the path the elder Spock had chosen, and Jim had to think that someone who had been as close to that Spock as Kirk had would make the same choice.

 

Kirk's answer caught his attention. "Yes and no. If we were certain this truly was my timeline, that you really are my younger self, then I wouldn't say anything. But Spock seems to think this is an alternate timeline, and I agree, if only because you were born in space and I was born in Riverside. In that case, I have no risk of altering my past by talking to you."

 

Jim reviewed that reasoning in his mind and nodded. "Makes sense. But you didn't come to dinner just to see what questions I had for you."

 

"No, I didn't." Kirk took another couple of bites of his salad before looking up to meet Jim's gaze. "I'm wondering if I made a mistake leaving the nexus."

 

Jim almost dropped his fork. "Why?"

 

"It was tedious. Boring. Monotonous. All of that. And it was just me. There was nobody around me, I had no responsibilities, no expectations. Now, I'm back in the world, but it's not _my_ world, and I have no idea what to do, just a feeling that I have to do something."

 

The words had come in a rush, and now Kirk looked as though he wished he could un-say them. Jim could only treat them with respect.

 

"It was different for me," he said. "I wasn't looking for a purpose - and then Pike dared me to do better than my father had. Now - I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have the _Enterprise_."

 

"D'you think Starfleet will take me?"

 

Jim couldn't help laughing. "They're not sure what to do with one of me, let alone two of me."

 

Kirk smiled, but Jim saw the sadness in his eyes and leaned forward. "I don't have all the answers, may not have _any_ answers when it comes to that, but it's too soon for you to start thinking you have nothing to contribute to this timeline."

 

"I keep wanting to give orders."

 

Jim shrugged. "Part of me wants to let you. Just to see how we're alike and how we're not. But we'd need a crisis for a real comparison."

 

"If your crew's anything like mine, they won't appreciate a change of command in a crisis."

 

"Not to mention that we're on a diplomatic mission to New Vulcan," Jim added. "Not likely to have a crisis."

 

"Which is when you're almost guaranteed to have one - when you least anticipate it."

 

Jim had to laugh at that. "Good point." Then he sobered. "Still, it's too soon to be thinking you have no place here."

 

"Maybe you're right," Kirk allowed. "And maybe I'm getting old. I mean, I'm older than Mom now."

 

"How old are you?" Jim asked, curious.

 

"I was sixty-three when I went into the nexus." He frowned, puzzled. "I'm not sure how long I was there."

 

"I'm not sure it matters," Jim countered. "And sixty-three is still young, even for a human."

 

"Middle-aged for a human, in my timeline. And that's the drawback of becoming captain so young - you become an admiral younger than you want to be considered an elder statesman."

 

"Elder statesman?" Jim stared at his counterpart. "Like hell."

 

"That's how it happens." Kirk sounded philosophical. "Captain at thirty-four, admiral by fifty-four - kicking and screaming, mind you - bored by fifty-four and a half. What?"

 

"You were thirty-four when you became captain?"

 

"Yes. Why?"

 

Jim knew he was grinning like an idiot, but didn't care. "I made it at twenty-five."

 

"Precocious little brat, weren't you?"

 

Jim's grin faded as he thought back to the circumstances that had brought him his captaincy. "More like in the right place at the right time. Sheer, dumb luck."

 

"But you backed it up with ability, or they wouldn't have given you your commission."

 

"I suppose," Jim said, and then said something he'd never expected to say aloud. "Sometimes I'm terrified it was all luck."

 

"Don't discount luck - it can be as important as skill," Kirk told him. "If less reliable."

 

Jim nodded, unconvinced. On some level, he knew his counterpart was right. On other levels, he thought it had all been a fluke and one day he'd wake up and find himself demoted back to cadet.

 

"Hey."

 

Jim looked up at his counterpart. "Hm?"

 

"You'll do fine. Better than fine."

 

"How do you know?"

 

"Because I did."

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

When New Vulcan solidified around him - or more accurately, he solidified on New Vulcan - flanked by Spock and the Romulan commander, Jim's first thought was, _If it feels this bad_ with _Bones' hyposprays, what would it feel like_ without _them?_

 

Then, as he surveyed the small group of Vulcans who had come to meet them, Jim had to bite back a smile. Before him stood Ambassador Sarek, a handful of other Vulcan elders he vaguely recognized from the aftermath of the _Narada_ incident, some humans Jim thought he should recognize but couldn't put names to, and behind them, only partly visible, the older version of Spock.

 

Jim forced his gaze to slide past the elder Spock and land on Ambassador Sarek. He raised his hand in the _ta'al_.

 

"Greetings, Ambassador," he said. "It is my pleasure to see you looking well."

 

Sarek returned the salute. "Captain Kirk."

 

"Of course you know my first officer, Commander Spock," Jim continued. "And this is Commander Di'On Charvanek."

 

Sarek nodded to her. "Commander Charvanek."

 

Beside Jim, Charvanek also raised her hand in the _ta'al_. "No longer a commander, but a supplicant."

 

"Commander or supplicant, be welcome," Sarek responded, and proceeded to introduce those who stood with him.

 

Jim acknowledged the introductions, only mildly surprised when the elder Spock was introduced as Selek.

 

Sarek's next words almost made his jaw drop. "And you know Admiral Christopher Pike."

 

This time, Jim didn't bother to hide his smile, though he kept it to an upturn of his lips only, as he saluted. "Good to see you again, Admiral."

 

Beside him, Spock echoed the gesture if not the words.

 

"And you, Captain. Commander." Pike returned the salute and the hint of a smile. "At ease."

 

"We shall speak inside," Sarek said. "Commander Charvanek, if you will join us."

 

Jim fell in behind the diplomatic party, hoping that the elder Spock might hang back. Now that they'd arrived, Jim wanted to make sure to see him before they left.

 

Instead, it was Pike who matched his pace.

 

"Why are you here, sir?" Jim asked quietly.

 

"Somebody had to escort the Federation ambassadors here," Pike answered equally quietly. "And since _Enterprise_ was otherwise engaged, they sent _Defiant_. She dropped us off and will patrol the area while the conference takes place."

 

Jim nodded to that. It made sense - _Defiant_ was the same class as _Enterprise_ , with similar weaponry and speed. She'd be ideal to shuttle diplomats in a hurry.

 

According to Spock - his first officer - the meetings would take place in ancillary chambers of the Vulcan Council building. Jim could only hope it would be at least slightly cooler inside.

 

The room Sarek led them to had a high ceiling but little else in the way of architectural features. Jim supposed that choice had been made so as not to distract from the two-meter-wide IDIC that dominated the wall opposite the entrance.

 

While the diplomatic representatives took their places at a large round table, Jim, Spock, and Pike moved to seats along the wall. Jim wanted to ask about the over-large, perhaps even ostentatious, IDIC symbol, but he knew just enough about design to suspect that his words would be heard by everyone in the room.

 

Making a note to ask Spock - either Spock - about it later, Jim focused on Commander Charvanek.

 

"I come to you as a refugee," she said. "Bereft of home, family, and name for the crime of acting on my beliefs. And yet I bring a message from the Emperor himself, if you wish to hear it."

 

If the entire gathering had been human, Jim suspected a murmur would have run through it. As it was, the handful of humans at the table simply glanced at each other.

 

"If you will," Sarek said.

 

Jim watched Charvanek reach for something - he hoped it was a communicator or recording device but wouldn't rule out an explosive of some kind.

 

Before she'd fully withdrawn it, it screamed at a pitch that hurt Jim's ears even at this distance. Even as he lunged for her, he could only hope none of the Vulcans would suffer permanent damage.

 

Then Charvanek was speaking into the device, asking for a status report, and Jim stumbled to a halt.

 

"We're under attack," came the response. " _Enterprise_ is firing on us."

 

"That can't be right." Jim had his own communicator out before he'd finished speaking those few words. "Kirk to _Enterprise._ "

 

Silence answered. He tried again, and a third time.

 

"What is the meaning of this, Captain?" Sarek asked.

 

"You'll know as soon as I do," Jim shot back, not caring how it sounded. He was about to try the _Enterprise_ a fourth time when his communicator beeped.

 

He flipped it open. "Kirk here. Talk to me."

 

"Keptin," Chekov's voice sounded hushed. "It's _Feynman's_ crew. They rushed the bridge, took over the ship, and are firing on _Iron Talon_."

 

"Any casualties?" Jim looked up at Charvanek. She closed the distance between them, her expression grim.

 

" _Nyet_ ," Chekov replied. "They threw us all off the bridge and have secured it from the inside. We cannot get in."

 

"Have Mr. Scott disable the power to the weapons systems," Jim ordered.

 

"They have secured Engineering as well."

 

"A well-planned mutiny," Spock observed. Jim glared at him, but his mind had already shifted into crisis mode and he had no time for anyone stating the obvious.

 

"How about the transporter rooms?" Jim asked. He was dimly aware of Pike beside him, contacting the _Defiant_ to summon her back from patrol.

 

"Transporter rooms are guarded, but lightly," Chekov reported.

 

"Get Giotto and a security team and get one of those rooms back for us. Call me when you're done."

 

Jim slapped his communicator shut, turned to Pike. "How far away is _Defiant_?"

 

"Fifteen minutes at full impulse," Pike reported. "Captain L'Engle'Stahdt isn't comfortable warping over short distances."

 

"It'll be over before then." Jim knew that with certainty. Then he met Charvanek's eyes. "How are your shields?"

 

"They will hold," she said, "but not indefinitely."

 

"I don't need indefinitely," Jim said. "I just need a -"

 

His communicator beeped, and he flipped it open. "Go."

 

"We have control of transporter room three," Chekov reported.

 

"All right. I want you to lock onto Admiral Pike's emergency beacon." Jim met Pike's gaze. Pike nodded, and activated the signal. "Beam him and Commander Charvanek over to _Iron Talon_. When you get there, sir, hail the _Enterprise_. They might be less likely to fire if they know they'll be killing one of our own."

 

"Doctor McCoy is already aboard -" Spock began.

 

"And he has no authority over them in this instance," Jim finished. "Admiral Pike does."

 

"And if they do not cease fire?" Charvanek asked.

 

Jim felt his lips pull into a tight grin. "Then I'll cease it for them. Chekov, you need to beam me onto the bridge."

 

"Without weapons, Captain, we will be at a disadvantage," Spock pointed out.

 

Jim noticed the _we_ but didn't question it. He could feel Spock's determination through their bond and, in any event, he'd never try anything like this without Spock beside him.

 

"Forgive my interruption. I have taken the liberty of procuring these." Jim looked up at the elder Spock, who had approached silently and now extended a pair of the most elegantly beautiful phasers he'd ever seen to him and his first officer.

 

"The ceremonial phasers carried at the opening of the Council." Sarek looked over the elder Spock's shoulder. "Logical."

 

"I appreciate the gesture," Jim began, "but ceremonial phasers -"

 

"Are still fully functional," the elder Spock finished. "Although they are limited to a stun setting."

 

"Thank you," Jim said, taking a phaser in his free hand and speaking into his communicator. "Ready for transport, Mr. Chekov?"

 

"Aye, sir. In three. Two. One."

 

Pike rested his hand on Charvanek's shoulder, and the two of them dissolved in a swirl of light.

 

"Two for the bridge," Jim ordered and returned his communicator to his belt. "Ready, Spock?"

 

Spock readied his phaser. "Ready, Captain."

 

*

 

Spock ignored the slight falling sensation that always accompanied solidifying after a transport in the realization that he and Jim had materialized in front of the helm and tactical station, facing the viewscreen which currently displayed the _Iron Talon_.

 

Instinctively, Spock dropped to the floor, turning on his knees to face the rest of the bridge. Beside him, Jim had done the same just as phaser blasts fired overhead.

 

If he hadn't already known Acting Captain Torres sat in the center seat, the shriek of surprise would've confirmed it.

 

"What are you - _how_ did you get aboard my ship?" Torres demanded.

 

"You are in error," Spock said. "This is not your ship."

 

"It's mine. Stand down." Jim rose to a standing position, and if Spock were fully human, he would have cursed. Jim knew better than to expose himself to an enemy like that.

 

 _I know what I'm doing._ The words sang in Spock's mind as clearly as if Jim had spoken them aloud. _Be ready._

 

As if he could be anything else, in this moment. Still, he shifted his muscles minutely, bringing himself into a somewhat more battle-ready stance.

 

"Stand down?" Torres sounded frantic, or perhaps half-mad. Spock was never certain of the distinction.

 

"Sir, they're hailing us again." Spock didn't know the man who sat at Nyota's station.

 

"Ignore them," Torres ordered.

 

"That'd be Admiral Pike calling," Jim said conversationally. "I'd answer, if I were you."

 

"Sir?" The communications officer looked uncertain.

 

"How can it possibly be Admiral Pike?" Torres demanded. "Ignore it."

 

"It's Admiral Pike because he brought a diplomatic team to New Vulcan," Jim said. "When we found out what you did, we beamed him aboard the _Iron Talon_. You sure you want to add murder to your list of crimes?"

 

"Murder?" Torres all but snarled. "They're _Romulans_ , Kirk - Romulans at New Vulcan, and _you brought them here._ They'll destroy New Vulcan like they destroyed Vulcan! Like they destroyed my ship! How can you call that murder?"

 

"Besides the fact that Pike's on the _Talon_? Because _these_ Romulans had nothing to do with Vulcan, or the _Feynman_ ," Jim said. His tone was pitched low and steady, a voice of reason. " _These_ Romulans aren't like them. Answer the hail, and let Admiral Pike explain things."

 

Spock lost track of Jim's voice because Jim's thoughts were spilling through their bond in a way they never had before. While Jim spoke to calm Acting Captain Torres, he was also explaining his plan.

 

_Soon as Pike's on screen, they'll be distracted. You take Torres, I'll take the guards at the turbolift._

 

Spock understood, and silently confirmed it.

 

"Come on," Jim's actual voice registered again. "What can it hurt to answer a hail?"

 

"Ignore it!" Torres shouted.

 

"But what if it is Admiral Pike?" The communications officer sounded uncertain, then his next words were resolute. "On screen."

 

Pike's voice filled the bridge. "This is Admiral Christopher Pike to _Enterprise_. Stand down immediately."

 

_Now._

 

Spock dove and rolled from his hiding place, coming up into a crouch, the phaser aimed at Torres, in one smooth move. He pressed the trigger and Torres stiffened in his seat, then collapsed.

 

Peripherally, Spock was aware of Jim firing his own phaser once, twice, and then Spock was shoulder-to-shoulder with him, ready to take on the rest of the _Feynman_ crew.

 

"Let's call it a day, shall we?" Jim said conversationally.

 

"Stand down," Pike repeated. "Surrender your weapons to Commander Spock."

 

Spock waited until most of the remaining crew of the _Feynman_ put their phasers on the floor and stepped back before rising from his crouched position to collect the weapons. He paused just long enough to release the locks on the turbolift.

 

As soon as he did, the doors slid open, and Giotto rushed in, followed by a team of security officers.

 

"The _Feynman_ crew have surrendered," Spock told him. "Confine them to the brig."

 

"Aye, sir," Giotto said, and Spock was able to turn his attention back to Jim and Admiral Pike.

 

"What's the _Talon's_ status?" Jim was asking.

 

"Minimal damage," Commander Charvanek replied, her tone clipped.

 

"Please accept my apologies, Commander," Jim said. "The mutineers were part of the crew of the _Feynman_ , who are aboard the _Enterprise_ after an encounter with another Romulan ship."

 

"Then I must apologize as well, Captain, Admiral," Charvanek said. "We first attempted to contact _Feynman_ , but another ship fired on her before we could make contact."

 

"What happened?" Jim asked.

 

"We destroyed it, but _Feynman_ didn't respond to our hails afterward."

 

Spock felt Jim's irritation through their bond, and spoke before Jim could say something he might regret.

 

"Captain, we should contact New Vulcan and apprise them of the situation."

 

"See to it, Spock," Jim said. "And take command of the _Enterprise_ while I return to New Vulcan. You have my permission to deal with any other attempts at mutiny the way you dealt with mine."

 

Spock chose not to argue with that tone, despite the order's questionable legality. "Yes, Captain."

 

He was spared the need for further reply when the remainder of the _Enterprise's_ bridge crew emerged from the turbolift to resume their stations.

 

*

 

Jim supposed he'd get used to diplomatic functions eventually - assuming that sitting in on a meeting with a defecting Romulan officer counted as a diplomatic function, which he wasn't certain he'd assume.

 

Still, once he'd returned the ceremonial phasers, there hadn't been anything for him to actually _do_ other than sit around while the diplomats talked. Beside him, Pike seemed to be paying rapt attention to the proceedings - at least on the surface. Jim would bet that Pike was as bored as he was.

 

The only highlight had been the message from the Romulan Emperor, when Charvanek finally had the chance to play it. The first surprise was that the Emperor spoke in Standard. The second surprise was that he had endorsed, even encouraged, Charvanek's defection.

 

"Too long the Empire has stagnated," he said. "I have sent my beloved niece with the hope that she and you together will encourage new growth for both the Empire and the Federation."

 

That threw the meeting into what Jim suspected was as much chaos as ever happened on Vulcan. Finally, Sarek rose. "It is decided. Be welcome, Di'On Charvanek."

 

After that, all that remained were the details of transporting the Romulan defectors to New Vulcan and the _Iron Talon_ to Starfleet headquarters - neither of which Jim would be involved in.

 

As the diplomatic party broke up, Jim excused himself from Admiral Pike and crossed to Spock - or Selek, as he had been introduced.

 

The older Vulcan looked up even before Jim came within speaking distance, as though he'd expected Jim's approach. "It is good to see you again, Jim."

 

"And you." Jim smiled.

 

"Forgive me, that our time must be brief, but I have duties," Spock said.

 

"I know, and I won't keep you. I just wondered if I could stop by tonight."

 

The request seemed to please him, to judge by the lessening in the severity of his expression. "That would be agreeable. I will send you the coordinates."

 

"See you tonight." Jim turned away, finding himself face to face with Pike.

 

"Is he the Vulcan you met on Delta Vega?" Pike asked.

 

" _Met_ is too mild," Jim countered. "He saved my life, and indirectly, the lives of every human on Earth."

 

"I'd like to meet him," Pike said.

 

"His name is Selek. I can give you his contact information."

 

Pike gave him a look that wasn't quite intense enough to be a glare. "There are still questions as to exactly what happened on Delta Vega. I'm sure he has all the details."

 

"You could write a dissertation." Jim kept his expression innocent. His mother had never bought that expression, but maybe Pike would.

 

Pike chuckled grimly. "Students will be writing dissertations about the _Narada_ incident for decades to come." Then his expression turned shrewd. "You're not going to give those details, are you?"

 

"As my first officer would say, they are irrelevant."

 

"Still, I'd like to hear them someday. Maybe over a bottle of Saurian brandy."

 

"I don't think Vulcans drink, sir."

 

"I meant you, Captain."

 

Jim blinked, surprised, and Pike grinned. Then, "I appreciate your loyalty to a man you barely know. I won't press, but if anyone finds out who he is, they might."

 

"They're welcome to try, sir," Jim said.

 

Pike looked amused at the thought of anyone trying to press a Vulcan for details they didn't want to give, but only for a moment. Then he gestured toward the door.

 

"Walk with me."

 

"Sir." Jim fell into step with him and after a moment realized they were heading toward the beam-in point.

 

It took a moment longer to realize Pike was subtly questioning him about the status of the _Enterprise_ and her crew.

 

Of course. She'd been Pike's ship before she was his. Of course the other man wanted to know about her. Jim praised both ship and crew, but couldn't resist a dig at the Admiralty.

 

"She's the finest ship in the fleet, and I'm satisfied that she has the finest crew. Now I just have to convince Starfleet Command of that."

 

"They don't need convincing," Pike said. "Sure, you've got a young crew, but nobody doubts their capability."

 

"Thirty percent more paperwork suggests somebody does," Jim said. At Pike's inquiring glance, he explained, concluding with, "It's annoying as hell, and more than once I've thought about applying a _Kobayashi Maru_ solution to this paperwork problem."

 

"God forbid," Pike muttered. Then, "I'll see what I can do about it."

 

"Thank you, sir." Jim meant every syllable. But they'd arrived at the beam-in point, and Jim saluted as Pike disappeared.

 

Then he was aboard the _Enterprise_ , waving to the transporter technician on duty and heading directly for the bridge, not even stopping to change out of his dress uniform.

 

When the turbolift doors opened, Jim's footsteps faltered for a moment. Instead of Spock, his counterpart sat in the center seat.

 

Jim recovered quickly. "Status?"

 

"Acting Captain Morrison had to be physically restrained from punching Lieutenant Torres, but otherwise the mutineers are secure," Kirk reported. " _Iron Talon's_ repairs are completed, and _Defiant_ has taken up a flanking position in case anyone else gets any ideas about our guests."

 

Jim's mind had hung on the third word. "Acting Captain Morrison? The science officer?"

 

"She is the ranking officer not involved in the mutiny," Spock said, and only now Jim noticed him at the science station. "And, her aborted assault on Lieutenant Torres notwithstanding, she has performed her duties competently."

 

"And that's the trifecta," Jim muttered, caught somewhere between pride and amusement. Then, "Do I even want to know what the duty roster for today looks like?"

 

"Why should it look different than the duty roster for any other day?" Spock asked.

 

Jim just nodded to his counterpart.

 

"The record will show that Captain Kirk resumed his station upon return from New Vulcan," Spock said. "And if the record is not particular about which Captain Kirk it meant, nor the time of said return, that is hardly a court-martial offense."

 

Jim sent a surprised query along their bond, got back an almost sheepish feeling in response. Biting back a grin, Jim said, "Then the ship is in good hands. Carry on."

 

"Yes, sir." Spock turned back to his station.

 

Jim headed for the turbolift, and before he stepped in, he glanced back at his counterpart. "Join me after shift."

 

"Aye, Captain," Kirk replied.

 

Jim waited until the turbolift door slid shut before letting out his grin. Tonight was going to be good.

 

*

 

A few minutes before the end of alpha shift, Kirk stepped down from the center seat and nodded to Spock. "Probably best you're in the chair when the relief comes on."

 

Spock rose from his station. "It has been an honor to serve with you, sir."

 

"A relief, you mean," Kirk said, then crossed to Spock and lowered his voice. "Keep an eye on him. I know he's not the same me that I am, but he's similar enough…"

 

He trailed off, uncertain how to finish the sentence.

 

Fortunately, this Spock appeared to be somewhat more adept with human emotions than his own had been. "I shall endeavor to ensure he lives at least as long as you have."

 

The dry, logical sense of humor was the same, though. Kirk grinned at the thought and then headed for the turbolift.

 

Only when the door slid shut behind him did Kirk let out a long breath. Sitting in the captain's chair of the _Enterprise_ , even if it wasn't his _Enterprise_ , had been a bittersweet reminder of his lack of place in this new world. He'd have to find one, some kind of purpose, somehow, or else he'd go insane in a way he hadn't while he was trapped in the nexus.

 

But that was a thought for another day, Kirk told himself firmly as the turbolift landed at deck two. He used the few steps to the captain's quarters to shove that melancholy deep down in the back of his mind. His younger self didn't need to feel bad for bringing him out of the nexus.

 

Jim didn't feel bad about it, if his smile when he opened the door to his quarters was anything to go by.

 

"C'mon," he said, and started back toward the turbolift.

 

Kirk caught up with him in a couple of hurried steps. "Where?"

 

"New Vulcan," Jim said casually - too casually, Kirk thought.

 

"Why?"

 

"Trust me."

 

"You do realize who you're talking to?"

 

Jim laughed and held out a hypo. "Tri-ox compound. New Vulcan isn't as hot as Vulcan, I'm told, but it's still at the edge of human tolerance for long periods."

 

Kirk knew how he could get when his mind was set on something, and he assumed his counterpart was the same way. Rather than argue the point, Kirk gave a silent sigh and injected himself with the tri-ox.

 

Minutes later, Kirk re-solidified on the surface of New Vulcan. He glanced around curiously. "A central beam-in point?"

 

"It's serving as a customs and clearing port for supplies and personnel for the colony," Jim explained. "And Vulcans are Vulcans, so beaming down anywhere else is considered impolite."

 

"Makes sense," Kirk agreed, "all of it."

 

He studied the colony as they walked through darkening streets. A double handful of permanent buildings were already up, including the Council building and the home of the New Vulcan Science Academy, though many of the personal residences appeared still to be pre-fabricated emergency housing - not too surprising so soon after the disaster itself.

 

Still, Kirk had to admit, "They're making good progress."

 

Jim agreed. "The biggest challenge is that many of the local flora are indigestible to Vulcans. They've been importing food, seeds, and starter plants at a rate that's nearly mind-boggling, but it'll be a hard couple of years before the farms are producing with regularity."

 

"At least they're Vulcans," Kirk said. "No chance of a repeat of the disaster at Tarsus IV."

 

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "I got mad when I heard about it. How could something like that happen in the twenty-third century?"

 

Kirk stopped in his tracks. "When you heard about it?"

 

Jim turned to him. "Yes. Why?"

 

"I was there."

 

Jim swore, then met his gaze seriously. "I'm sorry."

 

"A long time ago," Kirk said, and his younger counterpart nodded, accepting the close of subject.

 

Then they were turning down a side street, and Jim rang the chime at a pre-fab residence that was smaller than any Kirk had seen on the Vulcan of his timeline.

 

The door slid open, and Kirk found himself staring at Spock.

 

Not the Spock that was first officer on this timeline's _Enterprise_ , but an older Spock, even older than the last time Kirk had seen him, before that disastrous launch of the _Enterprise-B_. Wear lined his face, but he stood as straight as ever.

 

"Hey," Jim said, the words barely registering in Kirk's awareness. "Sorry to bring a guest unannounced, but I didn't think you'd mind."

 

"Spock," Kirk said - or maybe he just thought he said it through the dryness of his throat that had as much to do with emotion as it did with New Vulcan heat.

 

Spock stared at him almost a full minute before stretching out a hand, the first two fingers extended. " _T'hy'la?_ "

 

Kirk extended his own fingers to touch Spock's, and decided he'd have no trouble adjusting to this new timeline at all.

 

*

 

Spock insisted Jim stay for the evening meal, but Jim excused himself almost as soon as he'd finished eating.

 

"You guys have been apart long enough," he said. Neither of them disagreed.

 

"Thank you, Jim." Spock's tone was solemn, almost reverential, and Jim found himself ducking his head to try to hide his blush.

 

"Wouldn't you say that reuniting the two of you was the logical thing to do, so no thanks are necessary?"

 

"Perhaps not necessary," Spock said, "but certainly meant."

 

Then his elder counterpart was on his feet, and Jim found himself enveloped in a bear hug.

 

"Thanks, youngster," Kirk said.

 

Jim endured the hug a moment longer, then stepped back. "I'll note that you chose to remain here in my report. If 'Fleet has questions, they'll know where to find you."

 

When he materialized in the transporter room, he was surprised that Spock was waiting for him, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

 

"They'll be fine," Jim said.

 

"I have no doubt," Spock replied. "Although there are reports awaiting your approval, I wondered if you might be interested in a game of chess. Captain Kirk said that he and my own counterpart used to play."

 

"I haven't played in years," Jim said, "but I remember how. Go easy on me, will you?"

 

Spock raised one eyebrow as they started for the exit. "I do not believe you wish anyone to _go easy_ on you, as you say, in anything."

 

"Maybe not, Mr. Spock," Jim said. "But it was worth a try."

 

"Indeed."

 

They were almost to Jim's quarters when a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Spock - I've been wondering something. The other you said something when he saw the other me, something in Vulcan, and it's a word I don't know. What does _t'hy'la_ mean?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ends the first story in the Changing Times series. The next one, Unsettling Times, will be up as soon as I get it back from my beta readers and make their edits.


End file.
